


Eye of the Beholder

by kooili



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, optometry AU, they say write what you know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 04:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16737253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kooili/pseuds/kooili
Summary: Bernie Wolfe has been travelling the world bringing the gift of sight to people in remote areas with Vision Aid for twenty five years. But when a meal with a host family in rural China has her longing for home, she decides to return to her old stomping grounds in Holby to be closer to her children. Finding locum work in Keller's Opticians, she's determined to make her new life a success.Serena Campbell is a busy vascular surgeon and the Deputy CEO of Holby City Hospital. When her nephew Jason finally convinces her to have her first eye test in thirty years, she goes along somewhat grudgingly. She’s always had perfect vision and doesn’t see why being (ever so slightly) over fifty should change that. But there’s something else at the optician’s that catches her eye.Actually…someone.





	1. Dàiyáng

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie conducts a clinic in a village in rural China, then has a meal with a host family that gives her some food for thought.

Bernie took a deep breath of fresh mountain air through the open window of the Land Rover. It was far removed from the thick industrial smells of the city they’d left just hours ago and, in spite of all the years she had spent travelling for her work, it still amazed her how this much contrast could exist in such close proximity.

“We’re nearly there,” the driver said as he negotiated them as carefully as he could over a pothole on the single track road. The vehicle jolted as it exited the dip and Bernie hung onto the edge of the door in reflex, her other hand steadying the bag of equipment that sat next to her on the back seat.

“The road is not usually this bad. It’s the rainy season. This part of it was under three feet of water just last week.” The dark-haired man in the passenger seat craned his neck around as he explained apologetically.

Bernie smiled and shook her head. “I’ve been on much worse roads than this. Besides, the scenery more than makes up for it.”

Her companion nodded proudly. “Yes, this isn’t much but it’s home to over a thousand of us and I for one wouldn’t exchange it for anywhere else.”

The four wheel drive rounded a final bend in the road and suddenly they were at the crest of a hill looking down at their destination. The village was tiny, Bernie estimated no more than a mile from one end to the other, and consisted mostly of small houses clustered around courtyards. The largest building was built of red brick and stood prominently at the centre of the village. It was that building they finally pulled up outside a few minutes later. The driver immediately made his way towards the back of the vehicle and started unloading the contents of its boot while the man in the front passenger seat exited swiftly and opened the door for Bernie, who was gathering her kit bag as well as briefcase from the back seat.

“Thank you, Weng,” she said with a smile and pulled herself out of the car. He plucked the bag out of her hand and hefted it onto his shoulder, gesturing for her to follow him into the building.

“This is the community hall where you’ll be seeing your patients.”

The building was plainly decorated on the inside, twin doors leading from the entrance hall on opposite sides of the room. A small group standing in front of one of them turned collectively at the sound of their entrance. A white haired woman peeled away from the group and greeted Weng loudly as she crossed the room towards them. Bernie watched as they chattered away with a hand intermittently waving in her direction during their brief conversation. It ended with the woman clasping a hand onto her arm, pulling her along as they headed towards the door. Bernie stuttered in surprise and hesitated briefly, glancing at Weng. The hand on her arm loosened and the woman looked at her with a furrowed brow.

He replied with a shrug. “She’s keen to show you what they’ve prepared.” He lowered his voice before continuing. “They’ve been working hard making sure it’s set up exactly as you requested.”

Bernie turned and smiled at the woman, relaxing and allowing herself to be propelled onwards. She was ushered into a small hall, a loud chatter falling into silence as she entered, and found herself being stared at by a score of wide-eyed children lined up at one end of the room. Her equipment, as well a small area surrounded with dark curtains, was set up on the opposite end.

Weng followed her gaze and remarked, “We set the test area up as far from the windows as possible. The village elders talked about putting up partitions to make a separate room but there wasn’t enough time.”

Bernie laid a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, smiling broadly. “This is more than adequate, trust me. I’ve worked in much more challenging environments through the years.”

The twenty five years she’d spent travelling with Vision Aid had taken her to all corners of the globe and Bernie had found herself having to improvise on more than one occasion. There was an assignment to a remote village in Peru when she found herself testing in candlelight because their only power generator had run out of oil and the lorry delivering the supply had been delayed by a mudslide. Or the time in India when half her equipment was rendered useless because the jeep transporting it ended up half submerged when the bridge it was crossing gave way. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she reminisced. In spite of the challenges and mishaps, she wouldn’t have chosen to do anything else. Optometry might not be the most exciting of careers on the face of it, but the adventures she had been lucky enough to be a part of more than made up for it.

Her reverie was broken by a small voice. Bernie turned and realised that the children were now crowded around her, urged along by the old woman. A young girl was whispering something to the woman, who nodded agreement and answered loudly.

“Méi cuò, tā jiù xiàng tàiyáng!”

The other children, urged on by her words, started chanting excitedly in unison.

“Tàiyáng! Tàiyáng! Tàiyáng! ”

Bernie thought she recognised the name of the village but gave Weng a confused look as they kept pointing to her as they jabbered away. “They’re very proud of their village,” she ventured.

Weng grinned and broke out laughing. “Yes they are but that’s not what they’re saying. _Dàiyáng_ is the name of the village. They’re saying _tàiyáng.”_ He enunciated the word carefully, and this time Bernie could hear the minute difference in intonation. “It means ‘the sun’ and they are excited because to them, you,” Weng pointed at Bernie’s head, “look like the sun.”

A light flush coloured Bernie’s cheeks and she ran a hand through her messy curls reflexively. She nodded at the group, smiling widely, clasping a hand onto her chest and hoping that the gesture would adequately signal her gratitude.

* * *

“That’s the last one, Ms Wolfe,” Weng reported as he ushered the final patient out of the room.

Bernie nodded wearily, stretching her back and rubbing her wrist which had been clutched enthusiastically and gratefully by the woman she’d just seen. She had repeatedly asked Weng to use her first name but to no avail. It would be rude, he replied, as she was not only a guest but a person of authority, an expert who had come a long way to help them.

“I‘m just doing my job,” Bernie had answered shaking her head, the first time he explained this to her. “There really isn’t any need for all this formality.”

But it seemed that the entire village was in agreement with him as she was greeted with polite bows at the start of every conversation. And, although she had picked up a smattering of Mandarin through the years, Bernie didn’t recognise the phrase they called her at each bow - the same one her last patient had called her at the end of her test.

“What does that phrase mean?”

Weng stopped in the middle of lifting a piece of equipment into its box. “Which one?”

“The one they call me by,” Bernie elaborated as she started tidying away her equipment. She paused briefly, taking time to carefully enunciate the words as best as she could.

Weng smiled and nodded approvingly at her effort. “Dà Bái Yànguāng Shī. It means great white eye master.”

Bernie stared at him, partly in disbelief but mostly in embarrassment. Weng chuckled at the look on her face and continued with his work. “I know it seems strange to you, but the work you’ve done over the past three days has made such a difference in the village. Most of the villagers have never been out of Dàiyáng, let alone met _and_ had the privilege of having their eyes examined by a great expert from a distant land.”

“And yet, almost all of them could have benefited from having glasses before now,” Bernie murmured, her cheeks flushing when the look on Weng’s face revealed that he wasn’t teasing her. Her thoughts flitted immediately back to a young man she’d met that morning who’d been told he would never be able to see well enough to read or write, and how he’d shouted with delight the moment she fitted him with his first pair of glasses. “Wǒ kěyǐ kàn dào!” he’d exclaimed, and Bernie had heard that particular phrase enough in her time in China to know it meant _I can see._

Weng sighed as he closed the lid on the box. “It isn’t easy for most of them to travel to the city for such a thing, so they just make do as best they can. Until now.”

Bernie tidied away the last of her equipment and surveyed the room. It was mostly empty again, a row of folding chairs in the makeshift waiting area the last thing to be put away. “I’m just glad I could help,” she said, then looked at her watch and groaned in dismay.

“What’s wrong, Ms Wolfe?”

She shook her head as she answered. “Nothing.”

Weng gave her an enquiring look, clearly not taking her at her word and Bernie relented, continuing. “I remembered saying to the driver that I’d be ready to leave an hour ago. He had a family dinner to attend and now I’ve made him late for it.”

The look on Weng’s face cleared as he shook his head. “No, you haven’t. I told him to leave and make sure he was home on time.”

Bernie gave him a confused look. “Is there another way for me to get back to the plane tonight?”

Weng shook his head in mock regret, the wide smile on his face giving him away. “No need, Ms Wolfe. Tonight, you are a guest of my family and my house.”

* * *

Bernie dug her chopsticks into the bowl of rice and transferred a few sticky grains into her mouth. She had barely swallowed the first mouthful before a piece of fragrant roast pork was placed into her bowl. The hand responsible belonged to the old woman sitting next to her at the table and she deftly picked another piece of meat, piling it on top of of the pork. Bernie held up a hand to still her but was ignored, her bowl filling rapidly, the other woman only stopping when there was a sample of food from every dish before them in her bowl.

“I hope you’ll like the food, Ms Wolfe,” Weng spoke up from his seat across the table.

The table in front of them was laden with more than half a dozen dishes, all different but all smelling mouth-wateringly delicious.

“It looks amazing, Weng, but she shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble,” Bernie answered, imagining how much effort it’d taken to prepare such a feast.

The man shook his head. “No trouble at all. My mother enjoys cooking and this is just a small sample of her recipes. Besides,” he continued, smiling, “it isn’t every day she has an important guest visiting and she wanted to make sure there was something you’d enjoy.”

Bernie smiled shyly at the older woman and nodded her thanks as she lifted her bowl. The woman gave Bernie a toothy grin and mimicked the action of shovelling rice into her mouth, speaking excitedly whilst picking up her own bowl of rice. “Chī, chī…”

The meal was the most delicious one Bernie had enjoyed for a long time and, as tempting as it was, she had to decline the third helping of rice Weng’s mother tried to offer her.

“Xiè xiè,” she said politely, hoping the intonation was correct.

Weng’s wife Ling and their son Hern had joined them midway through the meal, the pair arriving home from a shopping trip to the nearest town. Bernie’s attempt at expressing gratitude was met with a nod of approval from Ling.

“Bié kè qì,” she answered with a smile, setting her empty bowl back onto the table. “You’re a fast learner,” she continued in perfect English.

“Thank you. Your husband is a good teacher and I’ve been practising a little,” Bernie responded with grin.  

The meal eaten, Bernie and Weng were shooed away from the table as the women started clearing up, dishes and bowls tidied onto a large tray. Bernie’s attempt at offering her help was immediately turned down with vigorous protestations from the elder Mrs Weng, so she stepped back, dipping her head in deference. Weng grinned broadly as he led her away from the dining room and they adjourned to a courtyard where a small brick stove sat, with a kettle boiling away on top of it and a tray holding a clay teapot and half a dozen small teacups next to it.

“Tea,” Weng explained, inviting Bernie to sit on one of a bench tucked up against the wall of the house. “The best digestif after a good meal.”

Bernie sank onto the bench and watched as Weng performed the ritual of making their tea. Dusk was setting in and the dying sunlight bathed the courtyard in a warm orange glow. They drank the tea silently for a moment before Bernie spoke.

“This is a beautiful home you have, Weng. Thank you for inviting me.”

Weng smiled and held his hands up in deference. “You have done a great deed, Ms Wolfe. Some of the villagers you’ve seen in the past two days have never had their eyes tested before.”

Bernie thought back to the dozens of patients she’d seen at the makeshift clinic. “Isn’t there an optician in the nearest town?”

“No. And even if there were, spectacles would be considered a luxury and unaffordable to most people here. Deteriorating sight is accepted as a part of growing old. As my mother says, the eyes lose their gleam as the hair whitens.”

Bernie tilted her head as she considered his words. “Poetic words but not the most practical approach.”

The soft sound of conversation drifted from inside the house and Weng glanced fondly towards his family before turning back to Bernie. “Perhaps not, but I’ve learned over the years never to argue with her.”

“Wise choice.” Bernie chuckled, taking another sip of her tea. The liquid, edged with the refreshing bitterness of tannin, was both warm and comforting. “Mother knows best applies in every culture.”

A loud clatter drew Bernie’s attention towards the pair of women crouched over a large sink. The sound came from soapy pot that had slipped out of Ling’s grasp and tumbled onto the floor. Weng’s mother cackled loudly and patted her daughter-in-law’s arm as the younger woman shook her head, smiling and bending over to retrieve the fallen item.

“It does, indeed.” Weng emptied his teacup and leaned forward, replacing it alongside the other ones on the tray and picking up the kettle to refill the pot. “And there are times I’m sure she still thinks I’m still a child even after all the time I’ve been away.”

Bernie nodded, recalling the biographical information on Weng from the briefing document she’d been given at the start of the project weeks ago. She had managed to embarrass herself on their initial meeting by commenting on his fluency in English.  “It’s reassuring to know that my years of study at Oxford haven’t gone to waste,” Weng had answered seriously. It wasn’t until Bernie’s eyes widened in embarrassed horror that he broke into laughter at the look on her face.

“I suspect she always will,” Bernie said. “She must be pleased you chose to come home after all those years abroad.”

Weng nodded. “The village needed a new doctor when old Dr Fu retired, and Ling and I decided that that taking up the job would be the right thing to do. My mother isn’t getting any younger and she’s been on her own since my father passed away three years ago. All our other relatives have moved away to the bigger cities but she refuses to. This,” he swept a hand around their surrounding, “has been her home since she was a young woman and this is where she wants to end her days.”

The women had now finished with the washing up and were enjoying their own cups of tea at the dinner table. Hern sat with them, his head bent over his homework, scribbling diligently onto the page under his mother and grandmother’s watchful eyes. Bernie watched as his grandmother leaned over to speak to him when he stopped to ask her a question.

“There is another reason I’ve come home,” Weng spoke up, seeing the wistful look on Bernie’s face. “My mother has enjoyed spending time with her grandson and the young rascal has a great deal to learn from his grandmother.”

“He looks like a bright boy,” Bernie commented, watching him explain the story he was writing to the old woman, drawing a loud burst of laughter when he mimed a monster by baring his teeth and raising his arms as he roared loudly.

“Too bright. But I am hoping that this connection to his roots will serve him well in the future. Too many of our young people have left for the bright lights and opportunities of places new and far. The village, this country, needs some of its sons and daughters to stay and build its future.”

Bernie looked thoughtful as she considered his words. “You wanted him to have a chance to choose.”

He answered with a vigorous nod. “It wouldn’t be fair to limit his perspective. He is lucky because he has the choice of both worlds when the time comes.”

“He’s _very_ lucky that his parents have the foresight to show him that he had those choices in the first place,” Bernie replied with a broad smile.

Weng smiled, his face flushed in embarrassment at the praise. “I hope that he’ll think so as well.” He hesitated before asking his next question. “If you don’t mind me asking, do you have children, Ms Wolfe?”

Bernie blinked, surprised by the change in topic. “Yes. A boy and a girl, Cam and Lottie.”

“And they live back home with Mr Wolfe?”

Bernie laughed lightly, shaking her head. “I don’t think my ex-husband would appreciate being called that but no, they’ve left home and have their own lives now.”

The small sigh that punctuated her words caught Weng’s attention. “You miss them.”

“They’re both fully grown and quite capable of making their own way in the world as I have been reminded on numerous occasions,” Bernie answered with rueful smile. “But I do make them share the odd, compulsory Sunday dinner with me when I’m back home.” Her brow creased slightly in a frown as she remembered the last few such occasions, soon after the divorce - ‘compulsory’ was definitely the right word for them, but not enjoyable. But perhaps enough time and distance had now passed that there could be a thaw in relations.

Weng leaned over and patted her arm. “And I’m certain they enjoy it as much as you do. Time spent with family is always precious, but they may not have the wisdom to appreciate that yet.”

“You might be right,” Bernie agreed. “I imagine there are many things they’d rather be doing than spending time with their mother.”

“Perhaps that’s why as parents, we keep trying to interfere. To remind them how important family ties are,” he said with a smile.

A light breeze rustled the leaves on the trees and Bernie breathed in the rapidly cooling air as she pondered his words.

“It’s getting late. We should go back in,” Weng said, pulling himself upright. “It’s been a long day and you’ll need to be at the airfield early tomorrow morning.”

Bernie nodded and followed as he led the way back to the house, glad to get out of the chill.

* * *

“Thank you again for your hospitality,” Bernie said, shaking Weng’s hand.

The tarmac, which earlier had been busy with a flurry of activity, was now mostly empty as the cargo had been stowed onto the plane. There were two other passengers on the small aircraft and Bernie could see them through the window as they made their way to their assigned seats.

“We’re the ones who should be grateful for all the help you’ve given us,” Weng answered.

“I’ve been practising so I’m hoping this sounds right.” Bernie pursed her lips in concentration as she composed her answer. “Bié kè qi.”

Weng nodded approvingly. “Practically a local. We need to make you an esteemed honorary citizen of Dàiyáng village. Ma will be your staunchest advocate after the way you praised her cooking.”

Their combined sound of laughter was drowned by loud blare, signalling that the plane was ready to depart.

“Yī lù shùn fēng. May the winds favour you on your journey.” Weng waved as he shouted over the sound of the wind and the large propellers starting up.

Bernie flashed him a final smile before climbing the steps of the small aircraft, feeling the thrum of the engine vibrating through her body as she did. She was soon strapped into the seat and settled in for the short flight back to Tàiyuán. They were bouncing along above a layer of clouds when Weng’s words from the evening before drifted back into her thoughts.

Family ties.

She had been travelling and living out of suitcase for so long that it’d been a while since the thought had crossed her mind. _Too long,_ an inner voice chided and - unlike every other time, when she’d batted the thought away in favour of work or some similar distraction - Bernie Wolfe found herself thinking longingly of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the Chinese phrases were translated by the characters, but here are the rest.
> 
> Méi cuò, tā jiù xiàng tàiyáng = Yes, she looks like the sun.
> 
> Chī, chī = Eat, eat (a favourite phrase of Chinese grandmothers.)
> 
> Xiè xiè = Thank you.
> 
> Bié kè qì = You're welcome.


	2. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie returns to the UK and has to inform her boss about a big life decision. Meanwhile, in Holby, Serena Campbell is having a very long day at work.

“Double shot latte, quick as you can, please.”

The young woman behind the counter nodded and turned to prepare the order. Serena Campbell shifted impatiently on the balls of her feet, hardly noticing the usual hiss and whistles from the machine as her drink was being made. It wasn’t like she was in a rush to start her day at work.

_No, not at all._

Certainly not when it was bound to be yet another shift full of broken bones and RTCs coming out of her ears. Raf had been on holiday for the past week and his locum replacement was, in Serena’s view, a poor substitute.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” the barista asked when she turned back towards her.

Serena nodded. “A pain au chocolat, if you’ve got one?”

The woman smiled and nodded. “Saved the last one for you, Ms Campbell.”

Serena smiled, almost embarrassed at her obviously well-known reputation for sweet pastry. “You’re a star,” she answered, flashing her brightest smile. The barista grinned shyly as she stowed the pastry away into a paper bag.

Her drink and breakfast in hand, she made her way down the corridor towards the ward, almost dreading what might be waiting for her after being off the previous day. The double doors swung open with a low buzz as the sensor registered her ID card and Serena stepped onto the ward. Her eyes swept round and found, to her dismay, that her fears were well justified. Nearly all the bays were occupied and, from what she could see, there weren’t anywhere near enough members of staff to deal with them.

“What’s happened?” Serena asked, stopping the first person in scrubs passing in front of her. The frazzled looking man stuttered to a stop and was about to brush her off when he realised who she was.

“I don’t have time for this so please ask someone else...oh, Ms Campbell...”

Serena glanced at his name tag before answering. “Good morning, Nurse Richards. I know you’re busy but I want you to take a deep breath and calm down.” She waited while he followed her instruction before continuing. “Now, what’s happened and why are there so many patients with so few staff on the ward?”

He blinked and cleared his throat before speaking. “There was an accident at the football stadium.”

Serena raised an eyebrow, inviting him to elaborate and the nurse obliged.

“A pitch invasion happened at the final whistle when the ref gave a penalty to the away team in the ninety second minute. They scored and Holby Rovers lost their first match of the season.”

Serena gave him a wry smile. “I take it the home supporters were unimpressed.”

The man nodded. “More than twenty people were involved in a fracas before the police broke them up.”

A quick look around the ward told Serena that at least half a dozen of the guilty parties were now in her care.

“Lovely,” she muttered under her breath before nodding her thanks and heading towards her office.

Serena pushed the door open and nearly squeaked in surprise to find the small room occupied.

“Henrik?”

Hanssen looked up from his seat at Serena’s desk and nodded. “Ms Campbell. I trust you had a restful day off.”

“Yes, I did. Not to be rude but what are you doing here?” Serena asked, just about managing to stop herself from saying the words _in my chair._

Hanssen drew himself upright and stood, but not before tidying the folder he was working on and tucking it neatly onto a corner of the desk. “The locum cancelled last minute and I decided to cover his shift.”

It took Serena a few long seconds to recover from her surprise before she responded. “Fletch should have called me.”

“He would have, had I not been passing through. I instructed him that you were not to be disturbed.”

Serena opened her mouth, ready to argue before she realised it was both pointless and ungracious. “Thank you, Henrik.”

She was answered by the usual curt nod and impassive expression. “There isn’t anything urgent. Most of the injuries are superficial but the ED thought they should be monitored because five of them had had blows to the head. Nurse Fletcher will give you an update once he’s back from his break.”

Serena’s eyes narrowed in surprise. Fletch was meant to be on a three day holiday starting the evening before. “Why is he still here?”

“The locum failed to turn up. Then the incident at the football ground happened and the ward has been extremely busy since then. I sent him away to have have something to eat and some sleep in the on call room.” He paused at the look on Serena’s face. “I know it seems unusual given the time of day, but he’d been working non-stop since last night.”

A feeling of unease grew in Serena’s stomach. “There must have been so much to do. He really should have called me,” she muttered, placing her coffee onto the desk and shedding her coat and bag in one smooth motion.

“It may not be quite up to your standards but I assure you that every patient has been managed appropriately and is on the road to recovery. Which is fortuitous considering the circumstances.” Hanssen’s voice rose a half a tone, causing Serena to turn towards him curiously.

“Dare I ask what circumstances?” Serena asked.

Hanssen adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat before lifting up a sheet of printed paper sitting on top of Serena’s desk. “The board has been asking for some housekeeping to be done.”

“Sound ominous,” Serena replied, frowning as she reached for the sheet. “Is this something else they’ve piled onto the frontline staff in an effort to win Hospital of the Year?”

Hanssen’s mouth twitched upwards in a semblance of a smile. Serena had been vocal at the last board meeting, protesting pointedly when the chairman suggested that the staff should all be wearing button badges proclaiming there were happy to help, just so that they would be able to tick a box in the latest online customer survey.

“The last time I checked, Angus,” Serena had answered, her words sharp and frosty, “they were called _patients,_ not _customers.”_

That particular agenda had been shelved by majority vote by the end of the meeting but hadn’t, Serena found as she read the circular with a growing sense of dismay, died the death it should have.

“They want to run an internal audit before the CQC next month.”

Hanssen nodded. “The trust is aiming for platinum level accreditation and making sure that everything is in order before the auditors arrive seems prudent.”

Serena’s eyes narrowed as she read the rest of the brief. “It says here that we have to meet the eight and twelve week standard from referral to first appointment. It’s not particularly a problem for AAU given the nature of our cases but I can’t imagine this is achievable in most of the other departments.”

“You’re not wrong. And,” Hanssen added with a rare twinkle in his eyes, “I’m pleased to see you protesting, with your deputy CEO hat on no less.”

Serena gave him a half-hearted smile and dropped the sheet onto her in-tray. “You know me, Henrik. I’ve learned to play by the rules even if I disagree with the fine details.”

Hanssen nodded with a smile. “I knew I could count on you, Ms Campbell, since AAU is first on the schedule for the audit.”

“How long do I have to prepare?” Serena tucked her bag under the desk before unwrapping her breakfast. She eyed it eagerly, her stomach rumbling at the sweet smell of pastry.

Hanssen brushed a non existent speck of dust off the sleeve of his jacket as he glanced at his watch. “Fifteen minutes.”

Serena’s eyes latched immediately onto Henrik in surprise. “What?”

“That is more than sufficient notice. If AAU is the well-oiled machine I know it to be. And,” Hanssen continued, his voice steady and calm, “I’m sure the auditor assigned will be more than happy to give you some leeway should it be required.”

* * *

“The staffing rota hasn’t been properly done.” The young man in dark-rimmed spectacles squinted briefly at the notice board before jotting some notes down on his clipboard.

“Sorry?” Serena pulled her eyes away from her phone, deleting yet another email in the seemingly never-ending stream of pointless memoranda and circulars she had been copied into as part of her role as deputy CEO.

A pair of dark grey eyes stared back at her as the curly head pulled upright. “There is inadequate cover in next weekend’s shift. There are only two nurses and a doctor scheduled for the night shift and that is in contradiction with standard hospital protocol, Auntie Serena.”

Serena drew a deep sigh before smiling at her nephew. “That’s because it’s Lou’s birthday on Friday and they’re planning drinks at Albie’s after work. I’ll be working the shift myself, along with Fletch, to make sure that everything is covered.”

Jason pursed his lips as he considered her explanation. “I suppose that would be an acceptable compromise. You do have above average skills as a consultant and Nurse Fletcher is a senior member of the nursing staff.”

Satisfied that that particular box was ticked in his report, he tucked the clipboard under his arm and headed out of the tearoom. Serena followed closely, wondering where his next destination was, and was caught off guard when he paused suddenly and turned towards her.

“You shouldn’t be following me around,” Jason announced.

Serena took a step backwards and looked at him in surprise. “What?”

Jason pushed the bridge of his glasses up against his nose before replying. “My job is to assess the efficiency of this ward in its usual day to day activities. I appreciate your help Auntie Serena, but I don’t think I’ll be able to to finish my report on time if I have to keep explaining my findings to you.”

Serena stared at Jason for a moment, torn between her instinct to laugh and her sense of propriety in consideration of his role. “Would it help if I left you to it and return to my office?” she asked, a fond smile on her face.

Jason answered with a vehement nod. “Yes. And I will present you with the results once I have gathered all the data that I require. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to Nurse Fletcher about the stock-keeping of emergency supplies in the linen cupboards.”

Serena watched as the lanky figure strode away to the opposite end of the ward. She’d been surprised to say the least when Henrik introduced Jason as the clinical audit assistant who’d be assessing the ward. He had been keen to get a job now that he had finished college, and had mentioned in passing about a post he’d seen advertised on the Holby City website.

“No, Auntie Serena,” he had said when she’d offered to speak to HR about an interview. “Thank you for the offer but I want to do this on my own.”

The weeks following their conversation had been a whirlwind of activity and they had barely had the opportunity to share a meal together. The staffing cover was precarious and Serena had found herself working more night shifts than she had since she was an F1. That, coupled with the countless meetings and piles of red tape she had to deal with as deputy CEO, meant that she was rarely home before Jason turned in to bed.

“Ms Campbell?”

A voice broke into her reverie and she turned to find Fletch standing behind her, an apologetic look on his face and a folder in his hands.

“What is it, Fletch?” Serena answered, running a hand across her temple to ease the mild ache that was starting to form.

“Incoming RTC. At least three seriously wounded, arriving in ten minutes.’

* * *

Bernie pulled the trenchcoat a little tighter against her body. The sharp autumn air was a stark contrast to the humid heat in Bangkok where she’d spent the last two days. She’d had a few days off after that last assignment in China and decided to take a more scenic route back to the UK. The break from work had done her a world of good and Bernie had even managed a very rare FaceTime call with Charlotte, the young woman grinning with delight with the news that her mother was on her way back home. They had ended the call with a promise to have dinner together, Bernie smiling as she remembered Charlotte’s excited voice promising that she and Cam would be present once a date was decided, dragging him along by force if she had to.

The green man on the crossing lit up and the accompanying buzz shook Bernie out of her reverie. She crossed the road and headed down the road towards the familiar glass and chrome of the Vision Aid offices.

“Bernie, you’re back!” a bright voice greeted her from behind the reception.

Bernie’s face crinkled into a smile as she rounded the counter and leaned down to hug the petite woman, her head of white hair in its usual tumble of frizzy curls. “Hi Elspeth. It’s good to be home after this long.”

Elspeth nodded as they broke apart. “Too long.” She raked her eyes up and down Bernie’s figure. “And you haven’t been eating well. Look how skinny you’ve become,” she continued, tut-tutting.

“The waistband of my trousers would disagree with you,” Bernie answered, patting her stomach.

“Oh, haud yer wheesht.” Elspeth McGlinchey gave her a look of chastisement. “Never mind, we’ll soon have you fattened up with some good old Scottish cuisine before you’re on a plane to somewhere exotic again.”

Bernie almost winced as she thought of the first time they met, here in Glasgow. Elspeth had insisted that she had to try a well-known local delicacy, and to this day the memory of that single bite of a deep fried Mars bar still made her teeth ache.

“I’ll be having all the fish suppers and home cooking that I want very soon.”

“Oh?” Elspeth gave her a look of surprise.

Bernie nodded. “The travelling’s been nice but I’ve been thinking a lot about coming home and hanging up the domiciliary kit.” She paused, suddenly remembering something, and rummaged in her bag before pulling out a small package, handing it over to the other woman. “Oh, before I forget, I’ve got something for you.”

Elspeth unwrapped the paper, her eyes widening in surprised delight when she pulled out the small porcelain figurine. Her fingers ran across the long trunk and horns as she scrutinised it. “It’s lovely, Bernie. Thank you.”

Bernie shrugged, a smile on her face. “I remembered that you collected elephants. Saw it last weekend at Chatuchak Market and thought it was something you might like.”

Elspeth shook her head, the look on her face a cross between joy and disbelief. “What are you like, pet. Come here,” she declared, straightening the crick in her knees as she pushed herself upright and reached forward to pull Bernie into a tight hug. “Nae wonder you have all the lassies pining over you.”

Bernie wrapped her arms around the small woman as tightly as she could, relishing in the comforting embrace, ignoring the ache in her ribs from the pressure. Elspeth finally released her after long seconds and pulled away with an exaggerated pained look on her face. She placed the figurine on her desk, sighing dramatically. “If only I were twenty years younger and didn’t have Jack waiting for me at home.”

“Oh, shush,” Bernie muttered as they separated, her cheeks flushed.

“Don’t you shush me, hen,” Elspeth countered sternly. The look quickly turned into a cheeky smile. “Ah well, it’s not meant to be I suppose. And you’d best get going. We’ve kept him waiting for at least five minutes now.” She grinned, pressing a button to unlock the door behind her before nodding towards it. “Try and go easy on the boss when you give him the bad news.”

Bernie gave her a solemn nod and a wink as she picked up her bag and headed through the open door.

“I’ll try my best, I promise.”

* * *

“Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”

Bernie tipped her chin, before taking another sip of whisky. The peaty aroma reminded her of a crackling wood fire and the smell of a pair of sodden leather boots drying next to it.

“Yes, I am.”

The heavyset man behind the desk shifted and sighed loudly. “Well, I suppose I should have expected this after your last trip.” He reached forward and reached for the bottle of Lagavulin and refilled Bernie’s tumbler, then his own. “The missus giving you a hard time, eh?”

Bernie shook her head. “You know there isn’t a missus, Rab. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about coming home. Cam went back to medical school. Did I tell you that in the last email?”

Rab’s face stretched into a huge smile. “No you didn’t. How’s the young lad these days?”

“Still in training and doing his F1 placement back in Holby. He’s not told me about the assignment, in case you’re about to ask. Had to find that out from Lottie.” Bernie took another sip of her drink and sighed.

The expression on Rab’s face cleared. “I’m sure he’d have told you once he was organised. His wee sister just beat him to it. Offspring are unpredictable at the best of times.”

“Perhaps. But it doesn’t help that his mother is away nine months out of the year, does it?” Bernie replied with a hint of regret.

They shared a look of understanding before Rab sighed resignedly. “Well, Berenice, I know you well enough to know that there’s no dissuading you once you’ve made your mind up.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Bernie answered. “I’d be lying if I said that the idea of setting down roots again isn’t a little daunting.”

“Ach, a strong-minded girl like you? You’ll be fine. And there’ll always be a job here if the wanderlust strikes again and you change your mind,” Rab answered with a smile.

“You’ll be the first to know,” Bernie promised solemnly.

“So,” Rab asked, heaving himself out of the leather seat. “What are your plans?”

Bernie’s mind blanked, almost caught off guard by his question. “I haven’t really thought about it. There’s still a heap of paperwork to finish from the last project that’ll keep me busy for a while.”

“And after that?”

Bernie shrugged. “Back to Holby. I’ve not told Lottie and Cam so it’ll be an interesting to see their reaction when they find out. We’re meeting for lunch next week. The house in on a long-term let so I’ll need to find somewhere else to live until the term is up.” She paused, a corner of her mouth twisting wryly as the next logical thought entered her head. “And, not that I won’t enjoy the break, but I suppose I should start looking for a job as well. Can’t see myself sitting about for too long.” Bernie laughed lightly before continuing. “There’s bound be some locum work kicking about, hopefully.”

She had barely finished speaking when Rab chuckled loudly, shaking his head in disbelief. “You won’t have any bother in that department, I promise. The law of supply and demand is very much in your favour right now.” Rab paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he rounded the desk. “I know someone who’s looking for an optometrist - he’s an old friend who owns an independent in Holby. Fairly certain that he’d be more than grateful if I pointed you in his direction. Just say the word,” he trailed off, his tone drifting upwards questioningly.

Bernie smiled, her expression broadening quickly into a grin when she answered. “That’d be much appreciated, Rab. Thank you.”

They shared another dram before their meeting ended and Rab, true to his word, set the wheels in motion immediately. Bernie’s phone rang the next morning just as she was stretching herself awake. A quick check of the time told her it was nearly ten and she had slept in much later than she normally would have.

“Hello?” Bernie answered, her voice gruff with sleep.  

“Ms Wolfe?” The male voice greeted her. “I’m Ric Griffin. Rab gave me your number and said you were looking for work in Holby. I hope that this a convenient time to talk?”

“Yes, of course.” She shook herself awake and cleared her throat before continuing apologetically. “Sorry, still catching up with the jet lag.”

The deep voice laughed down the line. “He’s also told me all about your recent adventures so no apologies, please. It must be quite a change being home again after all that time away.”

Bernie shifted, pushing herself upright and leaning against the cushioned headboard. “It’s been a hectic few months and, as you probably know, a long time since I’ve stayed in one place.”

“But you’re thinking of settling down again. Back here in Holby.”

Bernie hummed her agreement. “My children still live there so, it’ll be nice to be close to home again. It’s been a while since I’ve practiced primary care optometry but, yes, I’m looking forward to a change of pace.”

“Good.” Ric’s voice brightened. “That’s settled then. You can start anytime you’re ready. Assuming that your registration is up to date.”

“Yes,” Bernie replied, delighted but surprised. “I’ve kept up with all of the CETs while I’ve been away. But don’t you want to meet for an interview first?”

“No need for any of that,” Ric answered reassuringly. “Rab says that you’re the best person for the job and I trust him.”

Bernie swung her feet off the bed and felt goosebumps pepper her flesh as cool air met the exposed strip of skin between the waistband of her pyjama bottoms and her tank top. She shifted the phone to her other ear as she reached for the fluffy bathrobe that had been left by room service and started pulling it on. “In that case, thank you and I hope that I’ll live up to both your expectations.”

“I’m sure you will.” His voice was full of confidence as he replied. “Look, why don’t I email you with details about the practice as well as what we’re offering should you decide to take up the locum position? Take your time to look over it and feel free get in touch if you have any other questions.”

Bernie pulled the sides of the robe closed, tightening the tie around her waist. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll keep an eye on my inbox.”

* * *

Serena groaned, reaching a hand across her shoulder to massage aching muscles. She watched as the patient was wheeled out of the theatre into a side room for recovery. The injuries weren’t life-threatening but the sheer number of vessels and damaged organs that had needed repair meant it had taken much longer than expected.

“The usual obs, Ms Campbell?”

Serena turned towards the nurse and nodded. “Thirty minutes for the next two hours and hourly after that. Let me know if there’s anything out of the ordinary.”

“Of course.” He made the relevant notes on the patient’s clipboard before following the gurney out through the theatre doors as Serena watched, blowing out a sigh of relief.

It had been a long day and, yes, she had a good team, but everyone had had to pull together and muck in today. The multiple admissions from the accident turned out to be more complicated than any of them had anticipated. The final patient she had just treated had been the least serious of the cases, but even so the surgery had taken a good part of three hours to complete.

Serena pushed open the theatre door and stepped onto the ward. It looked relatively calm and she headed briskly towards the office.

“Auntie Serena.” The familiar voice called out and Serena stuttered to a stop as she was about to pass through the door.

“What can I do for you, Jason?” she answered, turning to face him.

Jason nodded towards the large pile of folders in his arms before thrusting them towards her. “This is the result of my data gathering from today. I thought you might like to have them and start analysing the results.”

Serena suppressed a tired sigh and smiled at her nephew as she accepted the stack, placing it onto her desk. She picked up the first folder and flipped it open. The front page was filled with charts and tables; her eyes ached after she’d made it halfway down the page. Deciding that she was too tired to concentrate, Serena closed the folder, replacing it on top of the pile.

“Is there a problem, Auntie Serena?” Jason asked, his voice concerned. “You’ve hardly looked any of it.”

“I’ll read it tomorrow, Jason,” Serena answered, closing her eyes, pinching her brow.

The crease between his eyes turned into a furrow as he stared at her. “You should put on your reading glasses if you’re having trouble seeing, Auntie Serena.”

Her fingers paused in their massaging motion pulled away. Serena looked up and quirked an eyebrow at her nephew. “I don’t have nor need reading glasses, Jason. I’ve always had twenty twenty vision.”

Jason pursed his lips and continued. “The way you’re peering at the page and pinching your brow suggests that you’re having difficulty focusing. I’ve researched this and it’s not unusual. Most people at your age, regardless of their distance vision, require reading glasses.”

Serena regarded him for a moment before answering, folding her arms across her chest. “Thank you for your concern. I’m certain you were thorough with your research, Jason, but I assure you that I’m seeing perfectly well as it is.”

She looked away and busied herself tidying up the loose sheaves of paper on her desk, hoping that her answer would end the conversation. Jason sunk down into the chair next to her, refusing to be that easily dismissed. “The evidence does not support your opinion, Auntie Serena. When did you last have your eyes tested?”

The question caught her off guard and made Serena think. It had been a while since she’d been at the opticians. Work had always been her excuse to defer a visit but she wasn’t about to admit it to Jason.

“Not that long ago,” she replied vaguely, although she had the rather uncomfortable feeling that Margaret Thatcher had been the prime minister the last time she’d darkened the door of an optician's shop. “And I got the all clear as well.”

Jason considered her words for a few moments before speaking. “If that’s the case, I think it must be longer than you remember and you need another test soon.”

“Why’s that?” Serena frowned, confused.

A confident smile formed on her nephew’s face as he straightened his glasses and started explaining. “You were squinting at that report for nearly a minute and from what I can tell, you had not managed to make it past half a page. I did a word count on document when I finished it earlier and it contained two thousand and fifty three words in total over six pages.”

It was obvious that Jason had done the analysis and was on a roll. Serena cleared her throat in an attempt to make him stop but to no avail. She slumped back into her chair and gave him a rueful look while he continued his spiel.

“The typical reading speed is two hundred words per minute and by my estimation, this means that your reading speed has fallen to approximately twenty percent below the average. At this rate, it’ll take at least,” Jason paused and counted the number of folders on Serena’s desk, “three hours longer than usual to finish all of your work. That’s reason enough to consider getting your eyes tested again soon. Or do you disagree with my calculations, Auntie Serena?”

He looked at her as he finished his question only to find his aunt staring back at him open-mouthed as she considered his argument before breaking out into light laughter. As much as Jason’s logic might have been impeccable, Serena wasn’t ready to give in just yet. She pushed herself out of her chair and reached for her coat.

“You’ve made a compelling case and have certainly given me food for thought. Speaking of which, I think it’s home time, my dear. It’s fish and chips night and we want to get there before they run out of pickled eggs, don’t we?”


	3. One Step Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie begins work at Keller Opticians. Meanwhile, Serena is finding her own work increasingly difficult. Jason has a solution.

“Mum!” Charlotte exclaimed, loudly enough to make the diners on the tables closest to Bernie look up curiously.

Bernie was halfway out of her chair when she found herself wrapped in a tight hug the moment the young woman reached their table. Any reply she’d had in mind disappeared in a grunt as the air left her lungs in a sharp burst. Cameron, who had followed behind, rolled his eyes at his sister’s enthusiasm. “Nice to see you again, mum,” he greeted her.

Disentangled from Lottie’s arms, she turned to her son and opened her arms towards him. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown too old to give your mother a hug?” she said sternly, with a smile.

An embarrassed flush coloured his cheeks as he stepped forward and allowed himself to be pulled into a firm embrace.

True to her word, Lottie had arranged for them to have dinner together as soon as Bernie was back in Holby, and they were soon catching up with the latest news while they ate. Lottie was working for an interior designing firm as an assistant to one of the partners, being offered the job the moment she graduated thanks to the years she’d spent working for them as an apprentice throughout university. Cam was in his F1 year at St James’ and, from what Bernie could tell, finding the experience equally exciting and frustrating.

“I know that dad had a lot to do with getting me the placement but I wish he wouldn’t hang over my shoulder and keep trying to help all the time,” he grumbled between forkfuls of food.

Bernie knew exactly what he meant and could just imagine Marcus pulling strings in the background and manipulating the situation so that his son would have easiest shifts and best performance reviews. That was where they had disagreed the most when it came to parenting: Bernie believed that the children should be allowed to work out problems for themselves to help them grow and be independent. Marcus’s idea of being a father was to spoil Cam and Lottie by giving in to anything they wanted - and it had worked to an extent, Bernie remembered ruefully. This dinner was the best time they’d spent time together since the divorce, and Bernie took it to be a sign that her relationship with them was slowly being mended.

“I’m sure your father is just doing what he thinks is best for you, Cameron,” Bernie answered, her voice neutral, earning her a look of initial surprise before the young man smiled begrudgingly.

“So, what are your plans for this trip home?” Lottie asked as she nibbled on her slice of cheesecake.

“And when will you dashing off to your next adventure?” Cam added, before Bernie could reply.

Bernie swallowed her mouthful of dessert before answering. “Actually...I’ve decided to give up the travelling and settle back here in Holby. So, my immediate plans will be moving my things out of storage and lots of DIY.”  Bernie looked between her children as they processed the news, watching as surprise turn into disbelief and finally, to her great relief, pure delight on Lottie’s face.

“That’s fantastic news, mum,” Lottie exclaimed in delight. “You’re not joking, right?”

Bernie shook her head and noticed the sceptical look still on Cameron’s face. “Cam?”

“Have you met someone? Or are you back with Alex again?” He tried to sound casual but Bernie could sense the tension in his posture. He had taken the divorce harder than Charlotte, in spite of the fact that she had explained that it had had more to do with her subsequent coming out than her fling with Alex.

She waited until he looked her in the eye before answering. “No on both counts. I’m living the high life, enjoying the bachelor lifestyle too much.” Her remark drew a smile from him and he relaxed back into the chair.  “Twenty five years on the go is a long time to be away and I thought it was time to be closer to home. And family.”

“So you’re really home for good. Where are you staying now?” The smile stretched into a grin, now that Cam was certain she wasn’t pulling their legs.

“At a Premier Inn for the moment but I collect keys to a rental in a few days. It’s unfurnished so there’ll be lots to do before I can move in.”

Lottie’s eyes lit up immediately. “I could help with the decorating. I’ve learned so much at work and it’ll be the perfect blank canvas for me to practise on.”

Bernie gave her daughter a smile.

“And I’d better come along and help,” Cam added, giving his sister a knowing look, “just to make sure that this one doesn’t break your credit card.”

His teasing earned him a glare and a slap on the shoulder. “I suppose we’ll need someone to do all the manual labour.”

Bernie signalled for the bill and turned back towards her children. “That sounds like a plan and a half. We can even plan a B&Q outing, just like when you were kids.”

The combination of excitement on Lottie’s face and dismay on Cam’s was too much and Bernie found herself breaking into loud goose-like laughter, in spite of the look of surprise on the waiter’s face as he brought the bill.

* * *

Bernie pulled upright at the sound of a loud clang. It came from the direction of the kitchen and was quickly followed by a yelp of pain and a string of expletives which echoed loudly in the unfurnished room.

“Language,” she said in a raised voice as she crossed the living room, picking her way carefully around the pile of packing boxes.

A head poked out of the kitchen doorway and answered, eyes rolling. “Tell the pot to try and stop killing me then. Besides, I’m twenty five, mum. And a grown up.”

The voice was gruffer than the eight year old who used to whine those words at her but the sentiment was exactly the same, as was the reply she had at the tip of her tongue. “Cameron Archibald Dunn. What did I teach you about arguing with your mother?”

Cam brushed the dust off his jeans and leaned up against the door frame. “That I shouldn’t because...” He sighed before finishing the sentence, Bernie joining in in unison as she reached the kitchen, “mum always knows best.”

Bernie smiled at the disgruntled look on her son’s face and brushed a wisp of lint out of his hair before ruffling it. “Correct, young man. You’ll get a gold star after you hang those pots back up.”

A look of exasperation crossed his face. “And I thought that working with dad was hard. You’re a slave driver, madre.”

“Oi, you’re lucky I’m not making you polish them as well,” Bernie scolded, before her voice softened. ”Things a bit stressful at work, then?”

Cam shrugged a shoulder and stuck a hand in his jeans pocket. “He’s just a little too involved at the moment. I’m only halfway through my F1 rotation but he’s already telling everyone that I’ll be following in his footsteps as an orthopaedic surgeon extraordinaire.”

Bernie crossed her arms, her expression tightening as she remembered all too well what her ex-husband was like. Marcus had always had grand designs for his son to follow in his footsteps. Head of Orthopaedics at St James’s was a laudable achievement but it was an open secret that he’d achieved it with an ability to be political and schmooze rather than his talent for wielding a scalpel. Marcus Dunn thrived in the political cauldron of the NHS and revelled in the glamour of position and fame. More than once to the detriment of the first principles of patient care.   

“Have you talked to him about it?” Bernie asked, careful to remain neutral. It wasn’t her place to colour Cameron’s opinion of his other parent - he deserved to make his own judgment.

“No.” Cam dropped his eyes towards his feet, shifting uncomfortably. “He doesn’t listen and I guess he’s doing what he thinks is best for me anyway.”

“I’m sure he thinks he is,” Bernie agreed immediately. “But it might be a good idea to let him know if that’s not what you want, before he gets too carried away.”

“You think?” Cam looked up.

Bernie nodded and smiled. “Yes. And I’m sure he’d be happy as long as you let him help when you decide what you want to specialise in.” They exchanged a smile and Bernie saw the look of relief that lightened her son’s face. “Now, back to the grind, young man.”

He grinned and ducked back into the kitchen, gathering the fallen items off the floor, Bernie watching as he did. It had been a long time since they had spent time together like this and  she’d almost forgotten how nice time with her children was. And even though it wasn’t possible, she could swear that Cam had grown taller since she last saw him at Christmas.

The sound of the front door opening broke her out of her reverie.  

“I’m back!” Charlotte’s voice called out from the hallway. There was a clatter and then a loud thunk as she closed the front door behind her. “And I come bearing gifts.”

The smell of hot pizza wafted through the air and Berne felt her stomach rumble in anticipation. They had been working most of the day without a break after all and, save for a takeaway sandwich at lunch time, she hadn’t had anything to eat.

Cameron was out of the kitchen like a shot, his face lighting up at the mention of food. “Good timing, Lots. I’m starving.” He bounded towards his sister and lifted the large pizza boxes out of her arms, beginning to place them onto the newly installed coffee table. Bernie slapped his wrist and slid a few sheets of loose newspaper on top of the oak surface, cushioning the bottom of the grease-soaked cardboard box before it landed onto it.

Charlotte loosened the scarf around her neck and tugged her beanie off, running a hand through her unruly blonde curls in an effort to tidy them before flopping onto the sofa. She watched as her brother tore open the top of the first container, ready to reach for the first slice before pulling up short. Charlotte grinned, pre-empting his expected response. “That’s mum’s. Yours is the one at the bottom.” She waited until he pulled the container out of the bottom of the pile before finishing her sentence. “Archie.”

Cam pulled off a slice of pizza and glared at his sister. “Oi, I thought I told you never to call me that.”

“Baby sister’s prerogative.” Charlotte grinned cheekily, reaching for her own pizza.

Bernie watched the exchange fondly as she took a bite out of her ham and pineapple slice. A warm feeling spread through her chest as they continued their banter and she stared long enough that she didn’t realise there was wetness pooling at the corners of her eyes until it blurred her vision. She blinked it away and smiled, automatically thinking of an excuse for them to spend more time together before finding one immediately. Her new job wasn’t starting until next week and there was a lot of unpacking that needed done, after all.

* * *

It was close to mid afternoon before Serena had the first opportunity to leave the the ward. Between the usual stream of patients onto AAU and Jason’s numerous questions as he worked through the clinical audit, she hadn’t had a moment to herself all day. She managed to make it all the way to Pulses and left soon after with her lunch in hand. The air was warm for autumn and Serena loosened the buttons on her coat as she stepped into the Peace Garden. The solitary bench was unoccupied and she sank onto it, fully intent on enjoying her lunch undisturbed. Her fingers had barely begun to pull the bag open when her mobile beeped, signalling an incoming text message.

_I have an urgent matter to discuss with you. Please meet me in my office at your earliest convenience. Kind regards, Henrik._

Serena heaved a loud sigh as she read the message. Earliest convenience, in Hanssen-speak, meant immediately. Procrastination was pointless she had learned and if it was indeed something important or, at worst case, bad news, it was better to get it over with sooner rather than later. She stared longingly at the the cardboard packet before stuffing it back into the paper bag and reversing her path back into the hospital.

It turned out to be something fairly benign after all. Hanssen had to leave for a meeting in Sheffield and needed Serena to speak to one of the junior doctors in A&E. There was an initial panic when he reported the loss of a tablet with patient files on it that he had accidentally taken home. Fortunately for him and the hospital, it was finally found tucked under the passenger seat of his car after an extensive search. Serena allowed herself a small smile as she watched the pale-faced man slink out of the CEO’s office, her scathing reprimand ringing in his ears.

AAU was quiet by the time she returned and a quick glance at the clock revealed it was well past the end of her shift. The audit paperwork, now occupying two separate piles on her desk, reminded her of the work that still needed done. Serena contemplated it for a moment but the thought of spending any more time in the hospital doing mundane paperwork wasn’t something she was in the mood for. She searched the nearest drawer and found a carrier bag and began piling some of the folders into it. It meant doing the work at home but at least she’d be uninterrupted and infinitely more comfortable.

Her stomach was growling by the time she pulled into her usual parking space in front of the house. Serena could see the dim glow of the living room lights peeking through the curtains signalling that Jason was already home.

“Jason?” She called out as she entered the door.

“In here, Auntie Serena.” His voice drifted into the hallway from the crack under the kitchen door.

Serena toed her heels off and wriggled her toes in relief as she made her way into the kitchen. The small table was laid out with precision with identical plates set on placemats opposite each other.

“What’s this?” Serena asked, surprised, her stomach growling spontaneously at the delicious aroma that greeted her.

Jason smiled broadly as he answered. “I know you’ve been very busy with work this week but Thursday is cottage pie night, remember?”

Serena rolled her eyes fondly. “Of course I do. I just didn’t expect it’d be ready this early. I was going to put it in the oven when I got home.”

“We would not be able to eat dinner on time if we waited for you to do so. You see,” he nodded at the bag of folders Serena was still holding, “I anticipated that you’d be late with all the extra work you would have to do with the audit report due in two days. I put the pie into the oven forty minutes ago at 180 degrees and it should be ready very soon.”

A loud chime sounded from the oven just then and Jason turned to peek through its glass door. Satisfied that dinner was ready, he pulled it open and carefully lifted out the cottage pie, placing it onto the trivet he’d set out next to the cooker.

“Do you need a hand with dinner?” Serena asked, dropping the bag onto a corner of the kitchen floor and peeling off her coat.

Jason shook his head as he busied himself with filling a pot for boiling. “The pie needs to sit for at least ten minutes and there are still carrots and peas to prepare. You have enough time to put your things away and change into your after work clothes. Dinner will be served by the time you come back.”

True to his word, Serena returned to the kitchen, infinitely more comfortable in a jumper and yoga pants, to find Jason sitting in his chair, waiting. She surveyed the scene and noticed that he had poured himself a glass of juice and set out a wine glass by her plate for her with an open bottle of Shiraz from the previous night next to it. Slices from a loaf of crusty bread were arranged neatly on a side plate.

“Hurry up, Auntie Serena. Your dinner is currently at its optimal temperature and won’t taste as good if you dawdle.”

He continued as Serena nodded, taking her seat. “I have researched that the best wine to go with this is a Malbec but you’ll have to make do with Shiraz since there is still some leftover from last night.”

Serena reached over and patted his hand. “I’m sure I’ll cope somehow. And thank you for preparing dinner, Jason. This looks lovely.”

They ate in companionable silence for a moment before Serena spoke. “How was your day, Jason?”

He swallowed a mouthful of dinner before answering. “I was observing Dr Digby and she seems to be very efficient in her work. The only interruption to my work was when a patient got lost trying to find his way to Radiology and ended up on AAU instead. He had been going in circles and  didn’t know where to go until I showed him the right corridor to take. I’ve analysed the situation and it wasn’t his fault - the signage can be very confusing at times.”

“I take it that you’ve mentioned that in your report.” Serena’s mouth quirked in a smile as she mopped her plate with a piece of bread.

Jason nodded. “Yes. It’s one of the items I’ve marked in red as a high priority item and included it in my update today. Have you had a chance to look at it?”

Serena shook her head giving him an apologetic look. “No, I’ve been busy. In fact, I’ve not even had the chance to start looking at the data you collected from yesterday either.”

Jason furrowed his brows in concern, placing the fork back his empty plate. “Your action plan to Mr Hanssen and the board is due in three days.” He stared at the bag of folders in the corner. “Is that why you’ve brought the work home?”

“Yes, Jason. So, I’m afraid you’ll have to watch Pointless on your own tonight.” Serena’s answer was punctuated with a tired sigh.

“That is acceptable. Finishing the reports is more important than watching people doing badly at obscure trivia.” Jason nodded and pushed his chair away from the table. ”It’ll be on in two minutes so can I assume that you’ll do the cleaning up since I made dinner?”

Serena smiled, nodding as she started gathering up the used dishes and utensils. “Yes. You don’t want to miss the start.”

The table was quickly cleared and with the dishwasher loaded and running, she turned her attention to the pile of work waiting to be done. The bag felt heavy as she hefted it onto the kitchen table. She settled back onto a chair and briefly considered the idea of taking it into the living room before deciding that she’d have it done quicker if she worked in the kitchen. There were fewer distractions and the brighter lighting was easier on her eyes. Serena pulled out the first folder and was soon immersed in her work. It wasn’t until she heard Jason’s footsteps approaching the kitchen that she lifted her head up to check the clock.

“I’m going to bed, Auntie Serena,” he announced as he entered the doorway. He headed for the sink and filled up the usual glass of water to take with him.

Serena squinted at the page in front of her before pulling back and pinching her brow. “Good night, Jason,” she answered distractedly. “See you in the morning.”

Jason pursed his lips as he answered matter-of-factly. “No you won’t. You’re on an early shift tomorrow and will be at work by the time I’m down for breakfast. You look tired. I think you should go to bed soon as well.”

“Oh I agree, Jason and there’s nothing I’d rather do but all of this still needs to be done. I just need to rest my eyes for a moment.”

Jason placed his glass on a countertop and folded his arms. “I think what you need is an eye test, Auntie Serena. I’m seeing Mr Griffin for my routine check tomorrow afternoon. Shall I book you one while I’m there?”

Serena turned and gave her nephew a smile, waving a hand towards the still half full bag on the floor. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Jason but I’m too busy for that just now, as you can see.”

He stared at the contents of the bag for a moment before answering. “Yes, but you’d have all of your work done by now if you were able to read through the reports quicker. My research says that a pair of reading glasses would be the most efficient solution.”

As if on cue, the next page Serena turned to contained a complicated graph, labeled in fine print. She could sense him watching as she peered at the wording - how could a font this size be legal? - subtly adjusting the angle and distance before finally giving up. Perhaps there was some wisdom in his suggestion but Serena wasn’t about to give in that easily.

“I’m just tired, Jason. And I am grateful for your concern,” Serena replied in a bright voice, with a reassuring smile before she turned her attention back to her work. “I’ll look into getting an appointment at the optician’s once I have a spare moment.”

Jason piped up in protest as expected. “But Auntie Serena…”

Serena held up a hand, stopping him. “I will, Jason.” She sighed at the sceptical look on his face. “You have my word, I promise.”

* * *

Bernie picked up her cardboard cup of coffee and immediately felt the warmth seeping into her fingertips. She took a tentative sip of her drink and, yes, it was still hot enough to burn if she drank it too quickly. It wouldn’t be something to worry about for long, Bernie thought as she stepped out of the coffee shop, the crisp cold greeting her the moment she did. It was still early and the high street was relatively quiet, most of the shopfronts still dimly lit or hidden behind roller shutters.

She checked her watch again, taking another mouthful of the now much cooler drink. Ric’s email had said that he wouldn’t be in till nine but the shop would be open by half past eight.

Her destination was only half a dozen shopfronts away and she could see the sign announcing ‘Keller Opticians’ in burgundy script above it from where she stood. Bernie contemplated waiting until it was a little closer to nine before heading towards it but a gust of wind, cold enough to make her shiver despite the woollen coat buttoned up and pulled tight against her body, made her mind up.

It would give her time to meet the rest of the staff before the boss arrived, she reasoned as she walked briskly towards the shop. Bernie pushed open the double glass doors and entered, her eyes sweeping round the room. It was surprisingly busy for this early in the morning, Bernie thought, with two of the four chairs in the small waiting area occupied. The only member of staff as far as she could see was a frazzled looking woman talking quickly into a phone behind the reception desk.

“Yes...yes, I understand Mrs McGinty and I apologise for the inconvenience but Mr Griffin won’t be able to see you today. Can I rearrange the appointment…” The unseen voice rose in tone and volume and Bernie tried not to stare as the petite figure pulled the receiver away from her ear to dull the loud barrage of protestations streaming through it. She gave Bernie an apologetic look as the voice chattered on about her displeasure at the situation before finally putting her ear back onto the handset once the volume finally died down.

“Yes, Mrs McGinty, the autumn fair, of course. I’m sure you’ll be kept busy with the preparations and yes, I think it might be sensible to leave it till after.” The reply was more subdued this time as she answered, her voice lightened with relief. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you at your convenience, when you’ve a space in your diary. Have a lovely day.”

The receiver was replaced onto the cradle with a little more force than was necessary, Bernie observed with a half smile, before the face looked up and greeted her.  

“Sorry to have kept you waiting. How can I help?”

“Bernie Wolfe. I’m here to see Mr Griffin. I’m a little early but he’s expecting me at nine.”

“Is it for a sight test appointment?”

Bernie shook her head. “No, I’m your new locum who’ll be starting tomorrow but he was going to give me a tour of the place in advance.”

“Ah yes, of course, Ms Wolfe - I’m Essie,” the blonde introduced herself, sticking a hand out towards Bernie. “Dispensing optician by trade but I also run the shop floor and do most of the administrative work.”

Bernie’s eyes crinkled as she shook Essie’s hand. “Jack of all trades, then. And it’s Bernie, please.”

“Needs must. Ric’s too busy with keeping the clinics running and supervision to keep on top of paperwork. And we’ve not had decent cover since Sacha left three months ago. It isn’t easy finding optoms who want to work in Holby,” Essie explained as she picked up a battered looking spectacle case from a rack by the till.

“Ric said as much when I spoke to him last week.That was the reason he was very keen for me to start as soon as possible,” Bernie remarked, watching approvingly as Essie straightened the frame with a few skillful tweaks to its sides before replacing it in its case and reaching for the next item on the rack. She swept her eyes around the room. “Looks like you’re busy so why don’t I get out of your hair and just have a look round until he gets here.”

She was about to head towards the nearest display when the grimace on Essie’s face made her stop. “Is something wrong?”

Essie nodded regretfully. “He’s not going to be in today. He was attending a conference the past two days and the flight back from Reykjavik was cancelled because of the volcanic ash.”

“Which is showing no signs of clearing up,” Bernie remarked, recalling a report on the news that caught her attention while she was getting dressed earlier.

“And no other way for him to get back until the airport opens again. Which is why I’ve been in since half seven cancelling clinics.”

Bernie raised an eyebrow curiously. “Clinics?”

Essie explained with a sigh. “He was meant to be supervising the pre-regs and there were two full clinics booked for them. I’ll just have to find some other work to keep Arthur and Dom occupied today.”

As if on cue, the front door swung open and two boyish figures strode through it. The taller one had his eyes glued to his mobile as they strolled past reception and the other, clean cut with a neat fringe, smiled at Essie before they both disappeared through a door marked ‘Staff Only’.

Essie turned back towards Bernie and was about to offer to show her the rest of the shop when the thoughtful look on the woman’s face made her pause. “Bernie?”

“They can see patients as long as they are under adequate supervision, right?”

Essie nodded. “Yes, but their supervisor being out of the country might be stretching it a little too far to satisfy the College rules.”

Bernie shook her head. “No, what I meant is that I could do his list and supervise on Ric’s behalf. I’m a full fee-paying member of the College and I have supervised pre-regs in the past. If you’re comfortable with that. Can’t say I’m exactly dressed for work today,” she looked down at her linen shirt and skinny jeans, “but I’ll start a day early if you don’t mind the look.”

Essie’s face lit up in a huge smile, the look reminiscent of someone who’d just been won the jackpot in a lotto draw. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Bernie reassured her. She shrugged off her coat and scarf, draping it across her arm. “Just show me where the consulting room is and give me a few minutes to set up.”

The morning whizzed past in a blur of patients and it was well past lunch time before Bernie had an opportunity to take a breather and a bite of the sandwich Essie had bought for her. Her stomach growled appreciatively as she took the first bite, scanning the list of patients she had seen as she ate. They were fairly straightforward appointments and, although most were clearly surprised to be seeing her instead of Ric, only one patient, her last one before lunch, had commented aloud on the fact. Bernie smiled as she recalled the conversation.

_“You’re not Mr Griffin.” The curly haired man stared at her, lips pursed in surprise._

_“No. Mr Griffin wasn’t able to come in today. Is it all right if I perform your sight test instead,” Bernie glanced at the paperwork on her clipboard, “Mr Haynes?”_

_Jason considered for a moment before answering. “You look about the same age as Mr Griffin. Have you been doing this job for long and are you as good as him?”_

_Bernie froze, caught off guard by the bluntness of his question and found herself hesitating before answering, in a serious tone. “I have been an optometrist for more than twenty five years so I’m fairly certain that I’m at least as senior in experience as Mr Griffin.”_

_She could see that Jason was still unconvinced. “I can assure you that I’ve had plenty of experience with a wide range of patients while working with Vision Aid but we can have you booked back in with Mr Griffin when he’s back if you’d prefer…”_

_Jason’s expression perked up and he interrupted her. “Vision Aid? I’ve read about of them and the work they do. They travel to a lot of different countries helping people who don’t have access to eyecare. Did you work there for long?”_

_Bernie nodded solemnly. “Twenty five years.”_

_A wide smile replaced the uncertainty on Jason’s face as he pulled off his coat and settled into the test chair. He shifted and squinted briefly at the mirror on the opposite wall before turning back to Bernie.  “In that case, I’ll be happy for you to perform my eye test. My name is Jason Haynes. What’s yours?”_

_Bernie crossed the room and stretched a hand out towards Jason, smiling._

_“Bernie Wolfe.”_

* * *

Jason closed the front door and froze just as he locked it behind him. A sound was coming from the kitchen, like that of a running tap, and he furrowed his brow. A look at the large clock in the hallway confirmed the time to be just a little over half past four.

“Hello?” he called out, not really expecting an answer as no one else was supposed to be home at this hour. Unless - his face cleared - his cousin Elinor was home from university and Auntie Serena had forgotten to tell him.

“In here, Jason.” The voice that answered him wasn’t Elinor’s and Jason crossed the hall and pushed open the kitchen door.

“Auntie Serena? What are you doing here?” he asked, confused.

Serena placed the mug she was washing onto the drying rack and wiped her hands on a tea towel. “I live here too, Jason, the last time I checked.” Her answer was accompanied by a small grin and she slid back into her seat at the kitchen table, the surface of which was covered with piles of folders.

Jason gave her an exasperated look. “I meant, what are you doing home this early? You aren’t supposed to be home for another two hours at least.”

“The ward was quiet enough and both Morven and Raf were in today. I’m taking the opportunity to finish this paperwork before the deadline on Friday. There’s less of a chance that I’d be disturbed working here than in my office,” Serena explained, picking up the top folder.

Jason watched as she started reading the page, stopping after squinting at it for a few moments before looking back up at him. “Will you be a dear and turn the lights on please? It’ll make it easier to read.”

He obliged and Serena’s face relaxed as she continued with her work.

“Auntie Serena, I was at the optician’s today.”

Serena nodded, distractedly as she scrawled her initial on the allocated space before turning the page over. “Yes, I remember you saying that. How did the appointment go?”

Jason smiled and pulled up the chair opposite Serena, sinking into it. “Very well. My eyes are healthy and I don’t need a new prescription.”

“Good, good,” Serena murmured, running her finger down the page as she read.

“Mr Griffin wasn’t there but Bernie was very thorough and as good an optician.” Jason watched as his auntie gave him a small nod, confirming that she was still listening. He paused before announcing his next words. “In fact, I was so impressed that I’ve made you an appointment to have your eyes tested tomorrow morning with Bernie.”

“That’s nice…” Serena’s head snapped up and she stared at Jason. “What?”

“You said that you’d get your eyes tested and tomorrow is your day off. I’ve made the appointment for first thing in the morning so you’ll have plenty of time to finish the work you’ve brought home after that.”

“But..” Serena started to protest but Jason cut her off.

“I thought that would be the most efficient use of your day off.” He saw the frown on Serena’s face and continued. “Am I wrong in my reasoning, Auntie Serena?”

Serena paused and looked at her nephew in resignation. His logic was impeccable and her excuse that she didn’t want to be interrupted during the day fell flat before she had a chance to use it. “No, Jason. I suppose you’re right.”

Jason’s face brightened into a smile. “That’s all fine then. You’ll be able to read comfortably without having to keep turning on the lights. Bernie will make sure you get the proper glasses,” he concluded confidently.

Serena sighed and nodded. There was not point arguing with Jason when he had his mind made up. This Bernie must have made quite an impression on him, Serena mused, imagining a white-haired distinguished looking man peering over his glasses, patiently listening to Jason and his questions. She found herself almost looking forward to meeting the person who’d managed to impress her nephew so quickly.

* * *

“Is that us all done for the day, Essie?” Bernie asked as the petite woman locked the door behind the last patient.

Essie turned and nodded, huffing a tired breath. “Yes and thank goodness for that. I need a long soak in the bath and a glass of wine after the day we’ve had.”

Bernie laughed lightly. “Yes, well, we made it to the end anyway.”

The door leading from the back office opened and Dom and Arthur appeared, coats and scarves on.

“So are you boys off home to study?” Bernie enquired as they approached the reception desk where she and Essie stood.

They both shook their heads in unison. “No. I’ve got a date tonight,” Dom announced excitedly. “Lofty is taking me to dinner at the new sushi place.”

“And I’ve got the latest episode of Dr Who lined up on iPlayer. I missed it at the weekend because I was in here going over my case records for the practice visit.”

Essie shook her head at the boys, giving them both a fond smile. “Then you’d best get going,” she continued as they followed her up to the door to be let out.

Bernie watched as the pair disappeared down the pavement before pushing herself away from the counter. “I guess I’d better get going as well. There’s still lots of unpacking to do.”

“Yes, but think of how much nicer it’ll be when you’re not living out of boxes and a suitcase,” Essie remarked, her hands busy gathering loose bits of paper from around the till. She stopped when she came across a printed sheet, pulling it loose from the pile and handing it over to Bernie. “Oh, before I forget, here’s your list for tomorrow morning.”

Bernie pulled her reading glasses out of her pocket, settling it on her face before glancing at the list. There didn’t seem to be anything other than routine appointments according to the attached notes. The first name on it was scrawled in pen, the original patient details crossed out above it.

“What does this say, Essie?”

Essie leaned over and looked at where she pointed. “Ric always said I had the handwriting if not the skills to be a doctor,” she joked in a rueful voice. “That’s Serena Campbell. There was a cancellation earlier today and her nephew booked her that appointment after he saw you. You must have made quite an impression on him.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Jason is very particular about who he sees when he comes in. Only Mr Griffin for his sight tests and me for any adjustments to his glasses.” Essie counted the numbers out on her fingers.

Bernie tilted her head as she recalled the young man and his forthright manner. “I remember him. Lovely young man - very inquisitive and bright. I should feel honoured,” she remarked. “Let’s just hope that I’ll live up to his auntie’s expectations, if her taste is just as particular.”


	4. Two Steps Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Bernie's first full day at Keller Opticians and she's keen to get off to a good start. Serena's her first appointment, but will she actually make it to the test room?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so...it's been a little while. Ahem.

Serena groaned as she found herself being pulled from the tendrils of sleep by a musical tone. Still half-asleep, she reached out in the direction of her bedside table and the sound. Her fingers grasped for her phone in a bid to silence the alarm but only managed to knock it off the wooden surface onto the floor instead. She drew her arm back onto the bed with a sigh as the notes danced up and down the scale and contemplated letting it ring out as it would eventually. 

_ Yes, you could do that but how are you going to explain it to Jason when he gets home? _

The thought of Jason dissecting her decision to skive off a sight test appointment was enough to make her blink herself awake. As tempting as it was to have a lie in, it wasn’t worth the hassle. She sighed and pulled herself upright, feeling the cool air brushing against her bare skin. With another burst of effort, she swung her feet out from under the duvet onto the carpet. 

Her phone had now given up its melodic reminder and lay silently on the floor. She picked it up, swiped past the home screen by habit, and checked her email. Nothing from work - thank goodness - and just the usual spam and notifications from long forgotten websites she had signed up to at some point in the past. A quick check told her that she still had time before she absolutely had to get up and she turned the alarm on to snooze.

Five more minutes she told herself, leaning on the headboard and shutting her eyes almost immediately. It seemed seconds rather than minutes - just before she drifted back to sleep - when the alarm rang out again. Serena silenced it and sighed, heaving herself upright reluctantly and heading for the bathroom. The extra snooze meant she would be cutting it fine, especially if the traffic was bad. But then, it’d be far quicker this time of the morning if she walked down to the high street instead of taking the car. She considered coffee and toast before leaving when she remembered what Jason had said last night. 

“I told them that you’re always early, Auntie Serena. Bernie says that’ll give them time to pre-screen you properly.”

Serena turned on the shower, shrugging out of her pyjamas as she did. A light chill raised goosebumps on her flesh and she immediately looked forward to a few extra moments under the spray of hot water to warm her up.

She’d just have to get breakfast on the way.

* * *

“What can I get you?”

Bernie had been staring at the huge chalkboards behind the counter for a good few minutes while she waited her turn to be served.

“Large skinny latte with an extra shot, please.”

The barista nodded and turned towards her colleague to pass on her order. Bernie took the opportunity to look around the cafe. It was busy - unsurprising since this was the time of day when most of the early morning commuters would be grabbing their morning cuppa before heading into work. Her drink was ready in a matter of minutes and presented to her, steaming hot and in a tall glass. Bernie was in the midst of looking for an empty table when her mobile sounded, a text alert vibrating through the lining of her coat pocket. She pulled it out read the message, a smile tugging the corner of her mouth as she did. 

_ Good luck on your first day, mum. Lottie x _

She was about to type out a quick reply when a voice sounded from right next to her. 

“Excuse me.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Bernie replied instinctively, taking a step back when she realised that she was blocking access to the collection counter.

The dark-haired woman flashed her a smile, and continued in a warm tone. “No need for apologies. I thought a wide berth might be sensible. I’m normally a hazard when it comes to hot drinks and I fear I might have ordered something that is frothier than usual.”

Bernie flicked her an inquisitive look.  

The brunette chuckled, a resigned look on her face. “Well, I could hardly say no to something called a double cream caramel macchiato, could I? 

Something about her voice, possibly the mischievous edge of colouring the words, made Bernie pause before answering. “I imagine that would be very hard to say no to if you had a sweet tooth.”

“And from the tone of your voice, I’m guessing you don’t?” 

Bernie tilted her head towards the stranger as she considered her answer. “No, not really. Strong and hot is alI need at this time of the morning.”

The other woman nodded, her eyes twinkling in amusement, and turned back towards the counter. Bernie caught sight of an empty table by the window and headed straight for it, forgoing the plastic tray, holding her drink in one hand while hefting her kit bag onto the other shoulder precariously. She picked her way across the crowded cafe as quickly as she could, whooping internally with delight when she secured the table. She pushed the bag off her shoulder letting it drop against her feet, and sank into one of the chairs. Her coat was quickly discarded and tossed onto the back of the one opposite. She had barely taken the first sip of her drink before her phone vibrated again. She fished it out of her pocket and the message, this time, was from Cameron.

_ Don’t work too hard on your first day, madre. C. _

She shook her head and smiled. They couldn’t be more different but there was no doubt her children were warming up to her, in their own unique ways. Bernie tapped out a brief response to each of them, which included a stern-faced emoji punctuating Cam’s reply for his cheek. She was about to take another sip of her drink when her eyes drifted back towards the counter, noting that the queue in front of the till had grown substantially since she was in it. 

The barista called out with an order and the woman she had been talking to turned and collected her drink, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles, lifting the tray it sat on off the counter with a nod of thanks. She glanced round the cafe and Bernie recognised the look on her face as she searched for an empty seat. Her eyes followed the woman’s movements as she waited for a table to become available, her posture not unlike that of a cat waiting to spring at the first sight of a prey. A space at the bar by the window became available and she was about to head towards it before it was instantly occupied by someone nearer and quicker. 

_ Bad luck. _

Bernie sipped her coffee, watching curiously, finding herself strangely invested in the plight of the stranger she had just met. She gave her internal nod of approval when the woman straightened her back and resumed her search. Defeated but undeterred, she started looking round the cafe again before landing in Bernie’s direction, stopping as their eyes met. For an instant, Bernie almost panicked, as if she’d been caught peeping, before her logical mind batted the idea away. She did the next logical thing she could think of and signalled her new acquaintance towards the seat opposite hers, inexplicably delighted when the woman immediately headed in her direction, picking her way past the crowded tables.

“Hello again,” the brunette greeted as she reached the table, Bernie reaching over to pull her coat and scarf off the other chair as she did. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked.

Bernie shook her head, glancing at the growing queue by the till. “Not at all. I was lucky to get this table but I don’t think it’ll be easy to get a seat in here now.”

The stranger placed her drink on the table and started peeling off her coat, draping it carefully over the back of the chair before sitting down. “It’s always busy in here and they  _ do _ have the best pain au chocolat on the high street. The coffee is more than decent as well, needless to say.” She regarded her drink for a moment, with its mountain of whipped cream almost overflowing the rim of the glass before taking a small sip. Her eyes closed in delight as she took another gulp, letting out a soft moan as she licked the cream off a corner of her mouth.

Bernie watched in bemusement as her table mate enjoyed the drink. The look of pleasure on her face was enough for Bernie to make a mental note to try one of these concoctions at some point, even if it meant challenging her non-existent sweet tooth. The woman looked like she had good taste after all, judging from her tailored coat and impeccable nails. Her hand reached for her coffee and she took a slow, deliberate sip, knowing that the rim of the glass would provide cover as she scrutinised the brunette.

She looked about Bernie’s age, she judged, but she couldn’t be sure. The short pixie cut accentuated her cheekbones lending her an air of youthfulness. Her gaze slid lower, onto a pair of lips neatly coloured with a striking shade of ruby red, with only the smallest hint of a smudge at the very corner where a trace of the cream remained. 

“Heavenly.” The woman replaced the glass onto the table, the sound of her voice making Bernie try to pull her eyes away before she was caught staring but she was a fraction too late, finding herself under the gaze of a pair of warm hazel eyes. “In case you’re wondering, it does taste as good as it looks. You should try one,” the woman said, her smile almost blinding.

Bernie’s eyes were drawn immediately back onto the pristinely coloured lips and lingered on them. There was something about the way they looked, with just a hint of whipped cream smearing the lipstick on one corner. Bernie was snapped out of her reverie by a sharp clank sounding from an adjacent table. They both turned towards the noise, though it turned out to be nothing more than a spoon falling noisily off the next table. 

“Looks delicious,” Bernie mumbled the first thing that came to mind. In spite of the brief distraction, her thoughts were still scattered and she found her attention being drawn to the paper napkin that sat under her drink. Her fingers found an upturned corner and started picking at it.

“I resisted earlier but I think I will get a croissant after all. Shall I get you one of these while I’m at the counter?” 

“Hmm, what?” Bernie let slip the now frayed paper napkin and gave her tablemate her full attention.

The brunette repeated herself, her words laced with a hint of cheek. “I’m only asking because of the way you were ogling my...drink.” Her voice warmed and deepened as she continued with a smile. “That’s the very least I can do for my good samaritan. I’d be drinking that from a paper cup out in the cold if you hadn’t offered to share.”

A flush rose in Bernie’s cheeks immediately when she realised that she had been caught staring. “Sounds tempting, but no,” she replied, hoping that her voice didn’t give away the inexplicable flutter in her chest. She drained the last of her coffee and replaced the glass back onto the table with a loud thunk. “Thanks for the offer but I should get going.”

The chair scraped loudly against the wooden floor as she pushed herself upright, pulling on her scarf and fumbling it into an untidy knot. There was a brief wrestling contest with her coat before she finally succeeded in pulling it on. She bent over, grasping the strap of her bag before hefting it over her shoulder. 

“Enjoy your croissant.” Bernie paused, looking at the woman just as she was about to leave. “First day at work and I don’t want to be late.” It was needless information but she felt strangely compelled to explain herself to this total stranger. 

Serena’s lips quirked upwards in a smile as their eyes met. “In that case, thank you for your company and good luck.”

* * *

The door the shop was still locked when Bernie stepped in front of it. Her steps, at first brisk as she met the sharp chill when she left the coffee shop, had slowed as she found her attention caught by one window display then another. Another light gust blew and she pulled her coat tighter, peering through the glass to see if she could find anyone to let her in.  

“They don’t open till half eight.” 

Bernie twisted round towards the voice. The owner of it was a head shorter than her, his chin tilted upwards. The smile faded and replaced by distress, at the look of surprise on her face. “Sorry, lass, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, not at all,” Bernie reassured him. “The lights are on and I was hoping someone would be on the shop floor to let me in.”

The man nodded. “I don’t blame you. It’s a bitter wind we have today, and it’ll certainly send a chill through a wee thing like you.”

Bernie gave him a look and chuckled aloud. “I won’t disagree about the chill but it’s been a long time since I’ve been called wee.” 

A loud rattle sounded and they turned simultaneously to find Essie on the other side of the door, working a key into the lock. The door opened a moment later and Bernie stepped through straight away, grateful for the blast of heat from the air curtain at the doorway.

“You’re early,” Essie greeted her before turning towards the man following closely behind. “And you’re on time, as always, Mr Fraser. What can I do for you today? Has Hamish been at it again?”

Bernie watched as he fished a pair of mangled frames from his pocket and handed it over to Essie who accepted it, shaking her head, smiling. “Looks like we’ll need the replace the lot,” she said after a brief examination. “He’s managed to pull the entire side off this time.”

“Will you be able to get something made up for me today?” the man queried, a worried look on his face. “That’s my last set of reading glasses and I haven’t done my crossword yet.”

“I’ll check,” Essie assured him, tapping quickly on the nearest computer terminal. She had his details up within seconds and furrowed her brows. “I’m afraid not, Mr Fraser. Your prescription is outside the range of lenses we carry in stock. The best I can do is have them ready for the day after tomorrow.”

“I suppose the puzzles will just have to wait till then lass,” he answered, balefully.

Bernie reached out and picked the frame off the counter. “It’ll be far from perfect but we could maybe find a temporary side that’ll fit. I’m sure we have a box of spare parts kicking about...” she trailed off glancing at Essie who nodded in response. 

The man’s face perked up immediately. “Will you look? I don’t mind anything as long as I can read the papers.”

Essie patted him on his arm. “We’ll find something. Why don’t you go get a cup of tea at the cafe and come back a bit later for it?”

Bernie smiled as he shoved his hat a little tighter onto his head before making his way out the door. “Regular customer, I take?”

“Yes. His son adopted him a puppy to keep him company and Hamish can’t resist spectacle frames,” Essie explained as she locked the door behind him.

Bernie nodded knowingly. “Glasses are irresistible to puppies and babies as we all know.”

Essie dropped her gaze towards Bernie’s kit bag and replied. “I’ll have a rummage through the parts and get the frame sorted. You can get set up in the same room as yesterday, if you like.”

“Any news from Ric?” Bernie asked, reaching down for her bag.

“No, not yet. He’s probably stuck at the airport with a dead mobile phone by now,” Essie answered with a small shrug. “We’ll just have to get on with it.”

The loud shriek sounded while Bernie was stowing her things away into the cabinet under the sink. She was halfway out the door when she caught a whiff of something burning. It grew stronger as she stepped onto the shop floor. Essie was frantically flapping a large spectacle cleaning cloth above a frame heater in an attempt to dispel the plume of smoke drifting out of it. 

“Might not be the best idea to use that,” Bernie called out crossing the dispensing area as quickly as she could. The words had barely left her mouth when the cloth burst into flames, Essie letting it go of it with a yelp. It landed on the counter and an acrid smell filled the air instantly. 

They exchanged a look before Bernie glanced round the area. “Where’s the nearest fire extinguisher?” 

Essie stared back, face laced with panic. “Behind the reception,” she finally replied, after Bernie laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, urging her to take a deep breath. 

Bernie nodded, reaching the desk in a few quick steps. “Is there anyone else in the store?” she asked, reaching under the counter pulling loose the metal cylinder stowed underneath.

“No. Arthur and Dom aren’t here yet and the lab staff don’t start till ten. Oh wait, ” Essie trailed off, her voice freezing momentarily. “Emma came in early to do the ordering. She’s still downstairs.”

Bernie grunted as she pulled the pin off the canister and aimed it towards the smouldering heap on the counter. “Go get her and get outside as quickly as you can. This should do the trick but you might want to call 999 just in case.”

* * *

The high street was still relatively quiet when Serena finally left the warmth of the cafe. Breakfast had brightened her mood and the prospect of an eye test was now significantly less daunting. She had lingered a little longer in the cafe after her companion left, finishing her croissant, sure that having been bestowed with the kindness of a stranger first thing in the morning must be a good sign for the day ahead. It was a pity they hadn’t introduced themselves. The woman had lovely eyes, Serena thought: kind and warm and - as irrational as it sounded - she’d seemed like someone she’d enjoy having a conversation with. 

A  gust of cold wind blew and Serena pulled her coat tighter as she made her way down the cobbled street. She was distracted by her thoughts and didn’t notice the gathering in front of the shop until she was almost walked right into it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she uttered automatically, stumbling back when a large figure in a tweed jacket bumped into her.

“No, lass. I wasn’t looking where I was going,” the man said, smiling apologetically. He nodded towards the optician’s. “Nothing like a bit of excitement to get the day going, eh?”

Serena was about to respond with a snide remark when her attention was drawn to the smell of smoke drifting from the shop. “What’s happened?” 

A petite blonde next to them, clutching her thin cardigan in the breeze, answered. “We’ve had a bit of an emergency. A small fire broke out when a piece of equipment overheated. ” 

A loud whoop blared as a fire engine ground to a halt on the edge of the cobbles twenty or so yards away. The sound made both women jump and they watched a pair of bright yellow uniformed figures covering the short distance to the shop before entering.

Serena stared at the wisps of smoke drifted from the open doorway. There was someone still inside, the slim figure moving quickly, spraying bursts from a fire extinguisher on the floor as she did. The figure finally pulled upright, setting the canister down and wiping her hand along the legs of her trousers as one of the fire officers plucked the extinguisher from her hands. 

“Looks like they have things under control,” Serena said. 

“I hope so. The fire service still needs to clear the shop before we can reopen. We should know soon,” Essie answered.

It didn’t take long before the officers seemed satisfied that the fire had been put out. Serena watched as one of them headed towards the back of the shop while the other started guiding the soot-covered figure towards the door. The smoke, diluted though it was, forced her to look away, blinking hard. “I see. I guess all appointments are cancelled until then. Shame.”  

“I’m afraid so.” Essie looked at Serena, her voice rising inquisitively. “Did you have an appointment today?

Serena nodded and hid a smile of relief, hoping that she sounded suitably disappointed. “For nine.” 

“I’m so sorry. Ms...?” Essie enquired.

“Campbell. And, really, it’s not a problem.” She gave Essie her brightest smile, the harried woman looking like she needed it. “It was just a routine check anyway and I can always rebook for another day.”

* * *

Bernie ran a hand through her hair in an attempt to arrange the damp curls into some semblance of tidiness. She could have made use of the hairdryer back at the hotel but she had promised Essie that she’d be back as quickly as possible. She was starting to regret her choice - it wasn’t far from the hotel to the high street but her scalp was already tingling from the cold. The damage from the accident was superficial. That singed patch of carpet would need replacing but there was no reason why business couldn’t carry on as usual. WIth Ric Griffin still incommunicado, they’d agreed - once the fire service left - that the best thing to do was to get the practice back up and running. 

“That was quick,” Essie remarked as she unlocked the door to let her in. 

“I thought that we might still be able to see some of the morning appointments if I hurried.”

Essie shook her head. “There wasn’t really anything else booked until after lunch and I’ve decided the keep the shop shut while we tidy up,” she said, nodding at Dom and Arthur in a corner. 

They were both standing in front of an open display, large pieces of microfibre cloth in their hands, obviously having been tasked with cleaning the frames. Arthur had a concentrated look on his face and was polishing each one vigorously, before quickly moving on to the next one. It was clear that Dominic was substantially less enthusiastic about the task he’d been set, given his almost treacle-like movement as he wiped the cloth along the side of the pair of sunglasses he was holding. 

“Are they both in clinic today?” Bernie turned towards Essie. 

“No. I decided yesterday that landing you with two trainees to supervise - again - wasn’t fair, so I pulled Dominic’s clinic. He can help me on the shop floor and dispense instead.  Arthur’s in contact lenses so he shouldn’t need to knock on your door too often.”

Bernie tipped her chin. “Much appreciated but I wouldn’t have minded. It’ll give him a chance to to get the dispensing figures he needs before his assessment, I suppose.” The three of them had chatted at lunchtime the day before and she’d picked up from their conversation that the young man had some ways to go to achieve the numbers he needed. 

“My thoughts exactly. Plus it means he’ll be doing some actual work instead of hiding in the test room texting his boyfriend.” 

“Ah, yes.” Bernie nodded. “Young love.” 

Essie sighed, glancing towards Dom. “For now, I suppose. Until the next distraction comes along.” 

“That sounds a bit harsh,” Bernie replied, a little surprised.

“Don’t get me wrong. I love the boy, he’s a good lad. Just a bit of ‘ooh, shiny object’ at times, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. I’m just concerned that this latest infatuation will affect his training this year.”

As if on cue a soft clatter caught their attention and they turned to find Arthur bent over, gathering up a half dozen or so frames scattered on the floor, while Dom retrieved and hurriedly stuffed a phone back into a trouser pocket.

“He seems bright, just possibly not as grown up as he thinks he is,” Bernie remarked. A fond smile crossed her face, drawing a questioning look from the other woman. “He reminds me of my son. Too clever by half for his own good.”

“Sounds about right,” Essie agreed before glancing at the clock. “Close enough to lunch time so why don’t I get us all something from the sandwich shop. The usual, yes?” She raised her voice, glancing at the boys.

“Ham and cheese panini for me,” Arthur replied immediately. 

Dom pondered a moment before answering. “Can you get me a grilled chicken wrap and with a plain side salad? Just started a new diet.” He sucked in his breath, patting his stomach. 

Essie rolled her eyes at him before turning to Bernie. “What are you having?”

“Anything,” Bernie answered, heading for the test room, “as long as it’s not baked beans and doesn’t have mayonnaise in it.”

* * * 

The small crowd milling outside the front door by the time they emerged from the staff room, fed and watered, was the first indication of a busy afternoon ahead. They were mostly regulars, concerned and curious about the excitement earlier in the day. Essie was soon entrenched with meeting and greeting concerned well-wishers, which left Dom busy with getting the first patients pretested and registered for their appointments. They settled quickly into a steady routine and Bernie soon found herself crossing her second to last appointment off the list.

Her last was a new patient, a grey haired man who trundled reluctantly into the consultation room when she called for him. Bernie watched his body language as he sank heavily onto the chair with a barely suppressed sigh.  

“So, Mr Taylor. This is your first time here with us. Can I ask when you last had your eyes tested?”

His answer was halfway between a mumble and a mutter. “Five, maybe six years ago. Don’t remember.”

Bernie noted the information on his record. “And do you wear glasses at the moment?”

The question seemed to irritate him and he shifted in the seat, his posture stiffening. “No. And I don’t need them. Perfect eyesight all my life. I can spot the ball on the fairway from two hundred yards away and I play almost every day.” 

Bernie paused from the typing, pulling away from the desk to give him her full attention. 

“You must be pretty good at the game.” 

“Do you play?” he asked, his voice a little more relaxed. Bernie had obviously stumbled onto his favourite topic. 

“Spectator only these days. Do you know what I found most challenging? Not finding the ball in the distance but peering at the scorecard especially when the sun went behind a cloud.”

A spark of recognition rose in his eyes. “Oh, I know what you mean, more so this time of year. I can barely get a whole round in before we lose the light. I’ve tried those magnifiers you get at the chemist but it’s a job and a half fumbling for them in the middle of a game ”

Bernie nodded her agreement. “There is a solution for it,” she lowered her voice, conspiratorially as he leaned forward in interest. “Varifocals. Most people with good distance vision like yourself, don’t consider them as an option but it’s not about needing them on all the time - it’s the option of never needing to take them off when it suits. Got these made up,” she continued, tapping the temple of her frame, “and never looked back since.”

“That’s exactly what I need. Do you think you could sort me out with a pair as well?”

Bernie suppressed a smile as she pulled her chair forward again and resumed typing. “No reason why not, once we find out what your prescription is. Now, can you cover your left eye and read the smallest line of the chart on the screen.”

The rest of the test was fairly routine from then on and Bernie soon found herself handing the man over to Essie to be dispensed with his first ever pair of spectacles. The shop floor, as far as she could see was empty, Dom being the solitary presence standing behind the reception desk. It looked like a quiet finish to an exciting day after all, she thought, turning back towards the consulting room to tidy up. The door of the room next to hers was still closed and Bernie glanced through the small window as she passed. What she saw made her pause. Arthur was still with his last patient and she was clearly agitated, gesturing expansively at the last thing said. It was clear from the stiffness of his posture that things weren’t going well. 

She knocked the door and pushed it open in the same movement. Arthur swivelled round with a distinct look of panic in his eyes.

Bernie gave him a reassuring smile before she spoke. “Everything all right?” 

He started to answer before the patient huffed and interrupted. “No, it certainly is not. This is taking far longer than usual and I need more lenses for this weekend.”

“We’ll try our best to oblige.” She closed the door behind her in a click. “I’m Arthur’s supervisor.”

The woman let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “An adult, finally.”

Bernie’s lips tightened into a disapproving look. “Arthur is fully qualified to perform your test. I’m here just in case he needs a second opinion.” It was stretching the truth but the young man looked like he could do with a boost of confidence. She directed her next words towards Arthur, ignoring the impatient snort from the patient. “So, where are we, Mr Digby?”

He cleared his throat nervously before answering. “I’ve trying to get the full history and symptoms but Mrs Pritchard…”

“Miss, if you don’t mind,” the tall brunette in the test chair interrupted.

“Yes, sorry. Miss Pritchard is being a little vague about any symptoms or her wearing schedule and left eye isn’t seeing as well as before. I’ve checked acuities and it’s dropped three lines on the chart. I’ve also over-refracted and managed to get the difference down to half a line but not without increasing the prescription by this much.” He picked up the form he’d been recording on and handed it to Bernie.

“That’s a big change. When was the last sight test?” Bernie asked, surprised at the result.

Arthur tapped a button on his screen and scrolled down to the appropriate section. “Three months ago and both eyes were equal then. The prescription on the lenses match up with those results.”

“And I’ve been telling him that it’s probably just a dodgy lens. I’ve not had any problems up till now and all I need is for you,” she gave Bernie a pointed look, “to tell him to sign off a prescription so that I can get more lenses.” 

Bernie pulled herself up to full height and looked Miss Pritchard squarely in the eyes. “Arthur is trying his best to do just that. It isn’t normal for this much change in your vision to happen within this short a period of time and he’ll have to rule out any pathology just in case there is anything potentially sinister causing the change.”

The woman’s face paled instantly. “What else could it be other than the lens? ”

Bernie glanced towards Arthur with a nod. He gave her a small smile before answering. “We’ll know more after I take a closer look at your eyes. I know you’re in a bit of a hurry today but I think we should go back to the beginning, starting with your wearing schedule and how the lenses have been lately, Miss Pritchard. Just so that we don’t miss anything that might be relevant.”

The woman shifted slightly in her seat. “Can’t be too careful, I suppose.” She paused, before continuing in a more amicable tone. “Come to think of it, there might be one or two niggly things I haven’t mentioned. And it’s Prunella, please.”

Bernie sank into a chair on the opposite end of the room and watched approvingly as Arthur started taking notes while Prunella continued speaking.

* * *

Serena closed the folder she had been reading for the past half hour with a sigh of relief. It wasn’t the length of the document rather the page upon page of mundane information it contained that made her eyes ache slightly. Her fingers reached upwards and massaged her temple as she squeezed her eyes shut for some modicum of relief. Jason, true to form, had been very thorough with his data collection and analysis. Her lips quirked upwards in a small smile - she hadn’t thought it would be a good idea when he first told her about being a clinical audit assistant but she’d be the first to admit that the job was a good fit for him.

She was about to pick up one of the few remaining folders when a low buzz thrummed along the table top. Serena picked up her phone and tapped on the screen. It was a notification for an emailed received, but it was nothing more than something she’d been copied in alongside dozens of other on a mailing list. Something else caught her eye and she flicked over to her call register. 

It was a missed call from about half an hour ago but she didn’t remember her phone ringing. Serena frowned. 

_ How did I manage to miss that with the phone right here? _

The number was unfamiliar but it was local and whoever it was had left a voicemail as well, she noted, tapping the icon with a small red circle attached to it. She stood and headed towards the kettle, putting it on while cradling the phone in place with a shoulder as she reached for her mug. Serena was just about to drop a tea bag into it when Essie’s voice spoke across the line.

_ Hi, Ms Campbell. This is Essie from Keller Opticians. Apologies again for having to cancel your appointment this morning but I’ll rearrange it to a day and time that suits at your earliest convenience. We’re open till half five today so please give us a call back on this number when you get this message. Speak to you soon. _

A beep signalled the end of the message followed by an automated voice listing the usual options. Serena ended the call, cutting it off mid-stream. A quick glance at the kitchen clock told her that they’d be shut now so the call would have to wait. 

A reprieve, she thought with a smile - and a welcome one since she still had a mountain of paperwork post audit as well as the usual rush of AAU to look forward to over the next few days. The eye test could wait. The throb behind her eyes had eased substantially, almost enough to make the prospect of finishing the remaining folders bearable.

Almost. 

Serena took another mouthful of tea and sank reluctantly into a chair. A peek at the top sheet of the next file told her it would be yet another series of boring spreadsheets. Her eyes started aching again and she sighed resignedly, giving in and reaching for her bag. It took a while but Serena finally found what she was looking for, pulling them out of their slim case. 

No better time to give them a go while Jason wasn’t about to say I-told-you-so. 

She unfolded the sides and slipped the pair of ready readers onto her face, blinking as her eyes adjusted their focus. Now to see if they made a difference, she thought, turning her attention back to the folder, flipping the cover to reveal the first page. It felt a little strange, almost like looking through a magnifying glass but the words were practically jumping off the page at her. Everything was so much clearer than what she was used to. Serena was in the midst of adjusting the thin plastic frame on her nose when the sound the front door opening and shutting made her freeze. 

“I’m home, Auntie Serena. Are you in the kitchen?”Jason’s voice called out from the hallway. 

Serena pulled the reading glasses off her face and stuffed them under a folder. It was irrational and the latest experience only confirmed that she needed prescription glasses to help her read. She just wasn’t ready to admit it to her nephew.

* * * 

“Thank you again.” Prunella Pritchard grasped Bernie’s hand, shaking it vigorously before letting go. 

“Just doing the job. Now, remember what Mr Digby said.”

The woman nodded. “I’ll not be creative and experiment with mail order lenses.”

Arthur stepped forward and interrupted. “Nothing wrong with getting them online but it would help if you let us know what they are the next time you’re in for aftercare.”

“Oh I won’t be doing that again,” the woman answered with a vehement shake of her head. “These lenses you’ve given me are marvelous. My phone’s clear as day and I have to admit it’s been a bit,“ she paused, embarrassed, “challenging for some time now. You’re a star, Arthur.”

“We’ll see how well they work in the real world when you’re back for the review,” Arthur answered, a blush lighting his cheeks.

Bernie watched as Essie let the grateful woman out of the door before locking it behind her. It was well after closing time according to the clock behind the desk.

“Well done,” Bernie patted Arthur on his shoulder. “You’ve made a good impression and I think you might have a regular in her from now on.”

Arthur shrugged and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure about that. It was pure chance that she revealed the fact that she was buying lenses online and making up her prescription as she did.”

Essie gave him a look. “Stop being modest and take the compliment. Now, why don’t you get your things so that we can all go home?”

He nodded and disappeared quickly through the door leading off the shop floor.

“He’s a good lad,” Essie remarked, as the door swung shut. “Arthur is focused and works hard, won’t have any trouble passing his assessment. Dominic could do with some of his enthusiasm.”

Bernie shifted her eyes from the door to Essie. “He’ll do fine and I’m sure Dom will as well with a bit of graft. Today didn’t go too badly after all, did it?”

Essie smiled in agreement. “No. We’ve managed to get all the patients seen and I’ve re-booked two of the three we had to cancel.”

“What about the last one? Bernie asked.

“I’ve left a message, but she hasn’t called back.” Essie rustled through the sheets of paper on the desk. “Serena Campbell.” 

The name pinged in Bernie’s head. “Why do I know that name? Someone’s aunt.”

Essie smiled. “Jason Haynes. You saw him yesterday just before lunch.”

Bernie’s eyes cleared, the image of the young man and his inquisitive questions coming to mind immediately. He had described his aunt and her quirks - in his opinion - in great detail. A surgeon, lead consultant of a busy ward, and - from what Jason insisted - a complete workaholic and somewhat negligent when it came to getting her eyes tested.

A formidable woman. Bernie had a feeling that whoever had her as a patient would have their job cut out for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's anyone still reading this, please let me know, haha.


	5. Helping Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernie continues to settle in at her new workplace and begins to make friends with her new colleagues. Meanwhile, Serena is dealing with the fallout from the internal audit.

The next day passed in a blur, Bernie quickly discovering that the practice - despite its size - was surprisingly busy. Essie dealt with the aftermath of the fire smoothly, making sure that the most urgent appointments were seen and dealt with. It wasn’t until the day after while she was setting up for her first appointment that an unfamiliar flutter of nerves rose in her chest. Now that the excitement was over, they were back to seeing the regular patients. Almost all of them had been coming in for years to see Ric and were inevitably going to be disappointed when he wasn’t there. 

“That’s your first patient.” 

Zosia March’s voice pulled her out of her musings and she turned, reaching out for the clipboard the young assistant handed her with a smile. Whatever concerns she’d had about being a replacement soon proved to be unfounded by the end of the day. Yes, there were the odd looks of surprise and initial apprehension but she managed to get a smile along with high praise for Ric by the end of most appointments. There was not doubt that Ric Griffin was good at what he did and very popular with his patients. 

The day passed quickly and she soon found herself packing up and pulling on her coat. “Any news from Ric?” Bernie asked, approaching Essie who was tidying up at the desk.

Essie sighed as she answered. “He called last night and left a message but it was garbled. I can’t decide if it was poor reception or the schnapps. Either way, he’s not going to be back soon.”

“The patients will be disappointed.” Bernie glanced at the diary on the screen. “Although, it seems we’re still fully booked,” she commented, flicking through her appointment list for the rest of the week. She had expected a half empty book and rescheduled appointments after Essie informed the patients that Mr Griffin was in absentia for the foreseeable future. 

“Yes. I’ve spoken to everyone on the list and they’re more than happy to see you instead,” Essie said.

Bernie looked up, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes. I explained the situation with Ric and the patients were quite eager to keep their appointments once they knew about your credentials,” Essie said, the corners of her mouth quirking into a smile. 

Bernie raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you told them but they must they must be easily impressed.” 

“Just the facts, I assure you,” she answered with a smile. “You might want to prepare yourself for the Keller inquisition.” 

“Should I be worried?” Bernie asked with a hint of apprehension.

“God no, they’re pretty harmless. Just be ready to be asked about your swashbuckling adventures travelling the globe, rescuing eyes.” Essie attempted a serious expression and almost immediately failed when Bernie rolled her eyes.

It turned out that Essie had exaggerated, but not by much. Bernie found herself fielding questions about her experiences working abroad that seemed to slip innocuously into the middle of more than a few sight tests. Every single one of them was politely asked and she happily obliged with anecdotes of her work with Vision Aid. She didn’t mind, and the banter went a long way towards building rapport. By the end of the week, there were more than a few patients leaving the consultation room asking for her name so that they could see her the next time they needed a test. 

“Here you go, Mrs Thomas, a copy of your prescription and my name’s at the bottom in case you have any other questions,” Bernie said, handing over the printed sheet. 

The woman plucked it out of her hand before stowing it away into her handbag. “Thank you. I’ve been coming here for more than twenty years now and always had Mr Griffin. He’s been very good taking care of my eyes and you’ve been just as lovely, dear. Can I ask for you the next time I’m in?” she asked as they exited the room.

“I’d be delighted if you did.” Bernie’s face beamed at the compliment. “And I won’t forget to pass your regards on to Mr Griffin when he gets back.” She gave the elderly woman a reassuring nod before walking her towards the waiting area since no-one had come to the room for the handover. “Now, let’s see if I can find someone to take those photos of the back of your eyes.”

A quick scan of the shop floor confirmed why her page had gone unanswered. Arthur was busy on the phone behind the reception and the only other member of staff she could see was Zosia. The young woman was speaking to a customer browsing in front of a display. They seemed a little thin on the ground but it was lunch time, Bernie reminded herself. She paused briefly before redirecting the patient into the small room housing the fundus camera. 

“Seems like everyone else is busy so why don’t you take a seat here and we’ll get that done so that you can be on your way.”

It took a few seconds to set the camera up and Mrs Thomas was soon making her way towards the exit, reassured that the images confirmed a perfectly healthy pair of eyes, as expected. 

“Where’s everyone else?” Bernie asked Arthur as she approached the desk. 

“Dom’s on his lunch break and I think Essie went up to the staff room looking for him a few minutes ago.”

Bernie nodded. “How’s it been out here today?”

“Kept going but not manic, thanks to the extra pair of hands we now have.” He tipped his head towards Zosia who was still with the customer. 

The frame he had in his hand was obviously too big for his face, Bernie noticed, and - to her credit - the assistant thought so as well. Zosia smiled, shaking her head as she pulled another one off the display for him to try on. 

“Seems like she’s getting on well.”

Arthur nodded. “Yes. Zosia’s sold more glasses this morning than both Essie and me combined.”

Bernie looked over to the young woman again, impressed. She was busy tidying up the display after the man left the shop with a handful of leaflets, clearly needing more time to decide. “And this is only her second day? Perhaps you should be picking up some pointers, Mr Digby. You’re not as far behind as Mr Copeland is but she may able to help you reach your dispensing targets a little sooner.”

Arthur’s ears pinked even though he could tell by the look on Bernie’s face that it was just friendly ribbing. Still, he couldn’t help being a touch defensive when he replied. “She is very good but that’s not unexpected, is it?”

“Oh? Bernie invited Arthur to elaborate but the subject of their conversation interrupted before he could. 

“Call it an unfair advantage,” Zosia said, approaching the desk. “I’ve been working at an optician’s since I left school.” She looked Arthur up and down with a critical eye. “You’re pretty good for a pre-reg. Much better than most of the ones I’ve worked with in the past.”

The flush spread from the tip his ears all the way down his cheeks. “Ric’s a good mentor but he’s so busy in the test room most of the time. Essie keeps us on our toes, though.”

Zosia nodded. “She’s been a big help helping me settle in as well. The last place I worked at was a chain and it was non-stop. Feels a little strange not to be swamped with customers all the time.” 

As if on cue, the front door opened and a family of five trickled in. Zosia was off like a shot, greeting them at the entrance, Arthur following closely behind. The pair seemed to have everything under control, Bernie observed as she left the shop floor, slipping through the door into the back office.

She climbed the stairs in quick steps, the sound of Dom and Essie’s voices drifting out into the corridor as she approached the top. The door to the staff room was ajar and she was about to push it open when she caught a smattering of their conversation. She paused when the raised tone of Essie’s next words drifted through.

“You promised Ric that you’d have it completed a week ago.”

Dom’s answer was a faint mumble and - although the words weren’t audible - the response they provoked made it clear that Essie wasn’t impressed. 

“Nearly is not good enough, Dominic. Your assessment is in less than a week and Imelda should have received your records two days ago. So why has she just phoned the practice to ask not only where they are, but also the reason you’ve not been replying her emails?”

His voice was a little louder this time and Bernie could make out a grovelling apology from the young man. 

Essie’s voice softened. “I know you think I’m being harsh but you don’t want to fall behind when you’re this close to finishing your training year.”

Bernie took the opportunity to announce her presence by knocking lightly on the door before entering. 

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” 

“Not at all.” Essie tilted her head towards Dom. “Just having a quick one-to-one with this one before I go back downstairs. Lunch time?”

Bernie nodded and held the door open for Essie. “I’m going to get a sandwich from the cafe. Can I get you anything?”

“No, thanks,” Essie replied, giving Dom a stern look. “End of the day, remember?”

“End of the day,” Dom echoed unenthusiastically as she disappeared down the stairs. “If it ever ends,” he muttered and slumped down into the nearest chair. 

Bernie pulled her coat off the hook behind the door. “Difficult morning?” 

He gave her a baleful look and nodded. “And I just found out that the rest of the day is definitely going to be even worse.” 

“You’re chipper,” Bernie remarked. “Anything I can do to help?”

Dom sighed loudly. “Not unless you can magically turn the clock back or freeze time. I can’t see how else I’m going to be able to finish what Essie’s asking me to.” He picked at the wrapper of  his uneaten sandwich before finally pushing it aside. “Think I’ve lost my appetite.”

Bernie pondered for a moment and tilted her head towards the door. “I’m just about to nip out for coffee. Want anything?”

He pondered a moment before springing up onto his feet. “I’ll come along. A caffeine shot sounds good right about now and I need the fresh air.”

The cafe was bustling by the time they arrived and a quick glance around confirmed that there wasn’t any chance of getting a table on the ground floor. 

“There’ll probably be some empty seats upstairs,” Bernie remarked to Dom, surveying the canopied flat roof terrace of the aptly named Concrete Block Cafe. “I’ll get the coffee if you go bag us a table.”

Dom nodded, heading quickly for the metal stairway winding up the side of the building. 

It didn’t take long before Bernie found herself balancing two tall latte glasses on a tray alongside a small plate of croissants. Dominic hadn’t reappeared and she assumed that meant he had been successful in his errand. A thick glass door opened onto the mostly empty terrace and she could she him in the furthest corner, leaning up against the railing which bordered the edge of the rooftop, tapping away on his mobile. 

“Looks like there’s not a lot of competition for a seat up here,” Bernie said, placing the tray carefully onto the table.

Dom paused and looked up from his phone. “A bit breezy for most and that cloud over there looks a little ominous.”

“Nonsense. The sun’s just coming out and it’s not even that cold.” Bernie swept a hand through her hair out of habit, tucking the strands back in place behind her ears just to have them come loose almost immediately. ”It’s a nice to be outside.” 

“Makes a nice change from being stuck inside a dark room without seeing daylight most of the day, I suppose,” Dom muttered.

Bernie looked at him with equal part amusement and surprise. It had been a long while since she’d worked with anyone in training and Dom seemed to lack the usual bright-eyed enthusiasm. “What’s your next assessment? Second visit?”

Dom shook his head. “Third. Final three competencies to be signed off and I’ll be glad to see the back of this and prep for stage two.”

Bernie did the arithmetic in her head. “That’s a little late in the year for stage one assessments. The next round of OSCEs are just a couple of months away. ”

A pair of pigeons pecking hopefully at an empty crisp packet squawked and flapped away when Dom sank heavily into the nearest chair, the metal rattling loudly against the concrete floor. “Don’t get me started. I said the same thing to the assessor at the last visit but she insisted that I found better...” he paused to draw quote marks in the air, “...‘records.’ Even though I had perfectly good ones ready.” The look on his face clearly said that he thought it was a waste of time.

Bernie recognised the tone - a heady mixture of exuberance and omniscience fresh out of student halls. “Sounds like a chance to tidy things up and make the final visit a mere formality,” she suggested tactfully.

He reached for his coffee and took a large sip. “Who knows what she thinks. I thought the records were good enough and I could be preparing for stage two alongside Arthur right now instead of scrambling about collating paperwork. I just hope she won’t make me miss the deadline.”

Bernie picked up her own glass and contemplated the young man sitting next to her. He had confidence, possibly ill-placed but admirable. Most pre-regs she knew in the past would have had that knocked out of them by this stage. She briefly considered the usual and expected advice of patience being a virtue but decided that he’d probably heard it too many times to merit anything more than a roll of the eyes. “Why did you choose optometry?”

“You mean other than for the glamour and the big bucks?” Dom answered instantly, a sardonic smile on his face. 

Bernie gave him a patient look as she waited for a serious reply. The smile faded into a thoughtful expression and a shrug. 

“I like helping people?” he tried, a trifle lamely. 

Patience wearing thin, the look escalated to include a raised eyebrow. “Try again,” Bernie encouraged, suppressing a sigh. 

Dom opened his mouth to answer but hesitated at the last moment as if he knew that what he was going to say would sound silly. Bernie shook her head and decided to let him off the hook. 

“Know why I chose this job? I thought it was a good idea at the time,” she said. “Or at least my father did anyway. Good profession, interesting job and decent hours.”

Her candid answer caught Dom off guard and he stared at her for a long moment before speaking. “Sounds pretty sensible to me,” he said before adding tentatively, “and pretty much the reason I did as well. Except it was a pastoral care teacher from school who gave me the idea.”

“Yes, well, they were both right, eventually.”

“Eventually?” Dom asked, curious. 

Bernie took a large gulp of coffee before answering. “Unlike you, I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed well beyond my pre-reg year. The feeling of, what did you call it, being stuck inside a dark room without seeing daylight? It didn’t feel that way until years later and by then I had other things to keep me distracted.”

Dom’s ears perked up at the last word. “Is that when you joined Vision Aid? Flying around the world and saving eyes.” 

Bernie chuckled at the way be waved a hand flamboyantly in the air. “Not quite. Two young children and a full time job was about as much excitement as I could handle at the time.”

“You have two children?” Dom blurted in surprise before he could stop himself.

Bernie nodded. “Fully grown. Cam’s about your age and Lottie’s two years younger. You sound surprised, Mr Copeland. Not quite mummy material by your reckoning?” She couldn’t help teasing, seeing the embarrassed flush rise in his cheeks.

“No, I mean, yes,” he stammered. “I just thought that with all the travelling… it’s hard to imagine being away so much when you’ve family here.”

“It wasn’t easy at first but Marcus was supportive. Initially, anyway.”

“Is he an optometrist as well?” Dom asked.

Bernie shook her head. “He’s a surgeon. Orthopaedics.”

“Must be pretty handy with the DIY at home,” Dom joked. 

Bernie let out a loud honk of laughter, loud enough to startle Dom and, he was certain, anyone who’d happened to be passing the street below. “He used to spend hours expounding on how orthopaedic surgery was all about control and finesse. Didn’t like it and got pretty riled up when I suggested that hammers and saws were hardly delicate instruments. Not that I would understand, anyway, being  _ just _ an optician and all.”

A cloud passed overhead and turned the sky a slate grey. Bernie wrapped her coat a little tighter around her body. A light tremor ran through her but it was only partly due to the transient loss of sunlight. Until these past two weeks, it had been a while since she’d thought about Marcus and the history they shared. 

“Sounds like quite a character.” Dom watched Bernie’s face carefully, keeping his words as neutral as possible.

“To put it mildly,” Bernie replied. “I won’t be polite even if you are,” she continued with a wry grin, “Marcus was a snob and thought optometry was nothing more than tinkering about with lenses until you eventually got it right.” 

“We haven’t known each other long but I can’t seriously believe you’d let him get away with that,” Dom said in surprise. 

“I quickly learned to ignore him. Rising to the bait only encouraged him and it wasn’t worth any headspace. Let’s just say that he was an acquired taste. One I eventually realised that no longer suited me.”

Dom nodded in understanding. “Is that why you joined Vision Aid?”

Bernie brushed a stray lock of hair that had come loose from her fringe and tipped her chin. “No. The practice I was working in at the time offered to make me a partner and that was pretty much a guaranteed job for as long as I wanted it.”

“And you turned them down and went travelling instead,” Dom interjected.

“It was meant to be a short stint,” Bernie continued her story. “They agreed to give me a  sabbatical while I thought over the offer and I decided that I wanted to broaden my experience and do something completely different for a while.”

Bernie recalled the conversation she’d had both with her then boss and Marcus. Six month, a year at most, and she’d return to Holby, buy into the business and enjoy the perks of partnership. Marcus had been particularly enamoured with the idea that she’d then be able to pick her working hours, delegate and be home for the kids. She could finally, he had explained, support his climb into the echelons of orthopaedics. 

“I guess a while lasted a lot longer than was originally planned,” Dom remarked.  

“Understatement to say the least,” Bernie smiled. “I realised that it was the kind of optometry I loved and wanted to keep doing. The experiences I discovered opened my eyes to a whole new world of,” she halted, choosing her next words carefully, “alternative possibilities.” 

Dom’s curiosity was piqued. “It sounds like you’re not just talking about domiciliary techniques.”

A faint flush of heat rose up Bernie’s neck and she raised a hand in reflex to rub it away. “You’re not wrong. Anyway, ignoring our differences was much easier to do when you only had to live under the same roof for a couple of weeks at a time. And to be honest, it was probably the only reason the marriage lasted as long as it did. Almost until Cam and Lottie left home.”

There was a hint of something, not quite regret nor resignation, to the tone of her voice and Dom watched as Bernie took a sip of her drink and fixed her gaze on a point in the distance. Her expression was neutral but there was a hint of wistfulness that made him pause. 

“Are either of them still in Holby?” Dom asked after a lengthy silence, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.

Bernie nodded, a smile returning to her lips. “They both are. That’s one of the reasons I’ve decided to give up Vision Aid and come home.”

Dom’s eyes widened in surprise. “I thought you were just locumming in between assignments. Can’t imagine why you’d want to do this instead.” 

“It’s not all adventure and excitement,” Bernie replied wryly. “Living out of a suitcase starts to lose its appeal once you’ve been away for as long as I have.”

He pondered her words for a moment and shrugged. “I still think it’s a more interesting than working on the high street in Holby. Testing eyes somewhere exotic, or better still, optometrist to the stars. I know a senior from university who’s practising in Hollywood.” His eyes brightened in excitement as he spoke.

“Nothing wrong with aiming for the bright lights and glamour. Just don’t forget that first things first. Hand in your records on time and make sure you pass your assessments,” Bernie answered, laughing lightly.

A sharp gust of wind rattled the table and they reached simultaneously for the tall glasses just before they tipped over. Bernie was about to suggest leaving when she felt a fat drop of water land on her head. It was quickly followed by another, this time hitting Dom squarely on the nose. 

“I think that’s a sign to go back inside,” Dom said, grabbing the plate of pastry.

Bernie dipped her head in agreement, latte glasses in hand, following him towards the door. The lunchtime crowd had thinned by the time they went back downstairs and Dom picked a table next to the front window.

“Here you go,” Bernie said, handing him his coffee before settling her own down on the table. “Drink up. We’ll need to get back to the shop soon. You have a busy afternoon ahead.”

* * *

A small box flashed on the top of her screen, signalling incoming mail. Serena looked up from the discharge notes she was working on and glanced at the notification, wincing when she recognised the name of the sender. It wasn’t unusual to receive mail from the chairman of the trust but this one had a red exclamation mark next to it. She drew a weary breath, pushed aside her report, and reached for her mouse. 

It seemed that the venerable chairman was less than impressed with some of the results from the internal audit, not that Serena needed to be reminded. Jason had handed in his final results earlier and that had quickly been followed by the expected phone call from Hanssen asking to meet with her at her earliest convenience. That was the next thing on her to do list after finishing the paperwork.

Her eyes darted across the screen as she read the message. It was scathing but thankfully short. Angus Farrell was as economical with his words as he was with the budget, which, Serena noted with dismay, he was planning to cut until AAU improved its efficiency quotient. She scrolled down and frowned when she read the list of proposed changes which were deemed necessary for streamlining the ward.

_ Longer shift patterns to reduce locum cover. Freeze on discretionary budget. Suspension of all overtime claims. _

As the list went on, Serena found herself growing more incensed as she read, barely noticing the tall figure who had silently entered the office.

“I trust I’m not intruding on anything important, Ms Campbell.”

Serena jumped at the sound of Hanssen’s voice. “No, not at all.” She pulled her eyes away from the screen and gave him her full attention. “I was on my way to see you when I got distracted.”

He slid into the seat next to Serena’s desk, head tilted inquiringly. “A problem?”

“It appears that we’ve all been slacking and AAU is in need of a complete overhaul,” she huffed. “Since when does the board take such interest in an internal audit?” 

“Ah, you’ve received the memo. The application for platinum accreditation is about to be submitted and the consultants preparing it suggested that the any shortfalls in the audit should be actioned as robustly as possible. I trust you’ve read the proposed tweaks to operational procedures.”

Serena let loose a snort. “Henrik, you have an unsurpassed talent for understatement.”

“Perhaps a little more drastic than usual,” he conceded with a tilt of his head, “but deserving of due consideration nonetheless.”

“Oh?” Her voice hardened. Henrik was a stickler for the rules but she hadn’t expected him to side with the board and their, in her opinion, unreasonable demands.

“You disagree.” 

Serena tried to decide whether he was stating a fact or asking a question, giving up after a long moment. His impassive expression gave nothing away.

“Of course. Anyone who works on the frontline would,” Serena replied. “It’s all well and good in theory, balancing the books on paper, but have they considered what all of this is going to do to the quality of care and morale?” 

There was a beat, Hanssen looking at her thoughtfully before answering, unfolding himself upright as he did. “I couldn’t agree more, but it’s the board and Mr Farrell who need convincing.”

Serena glanced at the email one last time before pushing herself out of her chair as well. “We’ll no doubt have our work cut out for us at next week’s board meeting.” 

Hanssen shook his head. “That would be rather too late. I take it that I interrupted before you read the end of the memo.”

“What?” Her brows furrowed instantly and she reached for the mouse, scrolling to the last page on the email, reading the final section aloud. “The new procedures are to be implemented first thing tomorrow by order of the chairman.” She stared disbelievingly at Hanssen. “Can he do this without calling a board meeting?”

“He did. This morning.”

Serena frowned. “I should have been there as deputy CEO. Why wasn’t I told?”

“Mr Farrell concluded that you might be biased seeing how you’re an interested party and - despite my apprehension - he has the agreement of all the other board members,” Hansen explained. 

“Well, this is my ward and I’m not going to take this lying down. I think Mr Farrell needs to be persuaded that this is a bad idea,” Serena muttered darkly, reaching for her mobile. 

Hanssen cleared his throat. “Perhaps a more direct approach might be more effective. I believe Mr Farrell is meeting with the head of governance on the sixth floor as we speak.”

Serena gave him a curt nod and rifled through the piles of folders on her desk before finding her handwritten notes summarising the result of audit.

“I trust you’ll be more than capable of coming up with alternative changes which are less detrimental. Needless to say you can rely on my full support should you require it,” Hanssen said as they stepped back into the ward. 

“Thank you for the offer, Henrik but it won’t be necessary. I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it,” Serena answered, her mouth set into firm line as she headed for the lifts. “You can buy the first round at Albie’s when we celebrate.”

* * *

Essie raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused as she considered Dom’s request. “Don’t let the boyish charm fool you,” she said, looking past him towards Bernie who was watching the exchange from the doorway. 

“No danger of that.” Bernie shook her head, smiling. “It’s only been a few days but I am very much aware of Mr Copeland and his reputation for industry. Let’s just say that he’s made me an offer I can’t refuse.” 

“Do I want to know?” Essie gave Dom a stern look, drawing squawks of protestation from the young man.

“He’s giving up his day off to help fix my broadband. It’s costing me a fortune in mobile data at the moment since it went down last week,” Bernie explained entering the room and picking up the nearest folder, settling into an empty chair. “There are only half a dozen contact lens patients Mr Copeland’s meant to see anyway and I can fit them in between my patients.”

Essie eyed him sceptically before turning to leave the room. “I’ll block out any free slots if there are cancellations. You’re too good to him and he owes you big time.” 

“Oh, I won’t let him forget,” Bernie answered and flipped open the folder in her hand. “Now, let’s see how big this mountain you have to climb before the end of the day is, shall we? I’ve ten minutes before my next patient.”

The afternoon passed quickly and the clinic ran like clockwork. The only blip was a patient who turned up without her lenses in and had to be rearranged. That gap in the clinic meant that Bernie had a few extra minutes to stretch her legs and she was quietly pleased to see that Dom was hard at work as promised when she walked past his room. It was near closing time when she finally handed the last patient over to Zosia and poked her head through his door again. 

“How’s it coming?” Bernie asked. 

The chair squeaked as he pushed himself away from the desk, rolling his shoulders in relief. “This is the last record and I’m nearly done. I’ve printed some of them off.” He nodded towards a stack of printed sheets on the test chair. 

“I’ll start on these while you finish up,” Bernie said, shifting the paper off the seat and starting to read. The printer hummed intermittently in the background as they worked silently. It finally went quiet when it spat out the last sheets - a summary of all the records - which Bernie plucked straight from the machine. Dom shifted in his seat, eyes glued apprehensively on her as she matched the details with his work. The rustle of paper on paper as her slender fingers flicked through the pages was the only sound in the room. 

“Well, everything seems to be present and accounted for as far as I can tell.” Bernie lowered the checklist back onto the stack of printed sheets. “You’re good to go.”

He drew a long breath and sighed in relief. It took an entire afternoon of sifting through the haphazard mountain of notes from the past month but he had finally found the last few records he needed. 

“Thanks,” Dom mumbled gratefully, wincing internally from the knowledge that the last minute rush could have been avoided if he’d been more organised and updated his folder as he went along. 

“You should collate these as you go along. Much easier to remember the details on the day than three weeks after,” Bernie remarked, as if reading his mind. 

Dom winced at the familiar words that he had heard numerous times in the past from Ric, Essie and even Arthur. 

They’d met at university, become friends and managed to get placements together at Keller, to his immense good fortune. Arthur Digby was meticulous, organised and - above all - a very good friend. There had been countless occasions in the past when they’d stayed back at the shop or up half the night because Dom needed help with with his work. The last instance was just two weeks ago and Arthur had helped him sift through piles of dispensing slips because he had accidentally shredded the patient details that should have been transferred into the logbook. Dom had promised to be more organised when they finally trudged out of the shop late that night but he knew that he would have had to ask Arthur for help again today, had Bernie not offered in his place. Today was another close call, a stark reminder that he had to do better as well. 

“I’ll do that from now on. Arthur’s been telling me that for ages,” he admitted ruefully. 

“Smart man,” Bernie remarked. “You should listen to him.”

“Oh I will,” Dom replied, gathering and straightening the pile of work on his desk. “And I’ll remember what you said as well. Thanks for all your help.”

“You’re welcome. I’d say anytime but that might be asking for trouble.”

Dom nodded sheepishly. “Guess I’d better get started with the scanning.”  

“I’ve got one last patient to see but I can give you a hand after.” Bernie eyed the impressive pile of loose sheets and folders. 

His face lit up immediately, breaking into a relieved smile. “I won’t say no to that. Booze and grub are on me after.” 

“A generous offer, but isn’t this a school night?” Bernie raised an eyebrow. 

Dom waved a hand dismissively and grinned. “You’re off tomorrow and I have a late start.” He sprung up onto his feet. “In fact, I’ll go and see if Arthur, Zosia and Essie want to come along. There’s a pub not far from here and I’ve been told they have a good Shiraz, if that’s your drink.”

Bernie blocked the doorway stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t think so, Mr Copeland.” She held up a hand, cutting off the expected protest. “You’re not going anywhere until all of that work is done. There’s a deadline to meet, remember?”

Dom stared at her balefully before reluctantly returning to his seat. Some things never changed. Bernie sighed, remembering Essie’s words.  “You better get started on the scanning if we’re going to leave anytime soon.  _ I’ll  _ go rally the troops.”

“Yes, mum,” Dom sighed dramatically. He heaved the scanner onto the desk and plugged it in... “No idea when this was last used so who knows if it’ll still work,” he grumbled.

The machine whirred loudly for a moment before it fell silent and a bright orange light started blinking.  Dom groaned and started fiddling with the cables. “Maybe I should just give up. The universe is against me today.”

Bernie crossed the room in two easy steps and pulled the scanner towards her.  A quick look at the screen was all she needed to tell her what the problem was. She scrolled through a series of menus before clicking on an icon and standing back.

“There you go, all sorted. That should get you going and there’s only another, what, fifty pages to go?” Bernie said, pushing the pile of paper towards him.

Dom stared dubiously at the screen and was about to disagree when the scanner stirred and pulled the top sheet through. His face lit up when it slid through, completed. A message flashed on the screen prompting the next page. Dom immediately clicked yes before turning towards Bernie with a look of amazement.

“I don’t know how you did it but it’s worked. I thought you weren’t good with technology.”

“You’re welcome,” Bernie answered with a wink. “I do enjoy a good Shiraz in the right company but I’ll take a single malt tonight to start with. Since you’re buying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess which pub they'll end up in?


End file.
